First Truths
by Lilac Summers
Summary: It began when a poorly timed kiss was photographed by the media. Now Sailor Moon deals with some startling information, while our lovable Tuxie stumbles along behind her. Written way, WAY back.
1. Chapter 1

Tile: First Truths

Author: Lilac Summers

Rating: PG

This was written WAY back in . . . holy smokes was it really 1999?! Then it took about 3 yrs to finish. One of my claims to fame, if you will, and I've decided to post it here because I've had a few requests to do so. And heck, why not revise the thing while I'm at it? No major changes (mainly some word choices that make me cringe now, but didn't then), so if you've read it before, it's all the same old-school Sailor Moon. So keep in mind, a few of the clichés weren't clichés at the time. ;) If you've never read it before, tell me what you think. If you have read it before and nostalgia has you re-reading, I'll welcome comments from you as well!

* * *

"Jerk." 

"Groupie."

"Cad," she countered.

"Brat," he returned.

"Conceited . . ."

"Childish . . . .!"

"Ooh! I just can't stand you!!" Running out of suitable insults for the man before her, Tsukino Usagi reverted to the tried and true method of stomping her foot and glaring at him, instead. Chiba Mamoru, for his part, merely sneered at her in that superior manner he had. "Oh, I'm truly hurt. Spare my heart," he deadpanned.

Usagi could feel the steam rising from her ears. She stepped forward and up on tiptoes, which still brought her only to his jaw but she'd take any advantage she could get, and poked one finger into his chest. "Just you wait, Chiba Mamoru. One day . . . One day you're gonna wish you'd been nicer to me, and then I'll make you beg for forgiveness!"

Mamoru's mouth twisted into a chiseled smile and he bent down until they were nose to nose. "That day, Tsukino Usagi, will be the day you ace a math exam." So saying, he turned on his heel and tossed a crumpled piece of paper over his shoulder, whistling in a maddening way.

Usagi caught the paper reflexively, staring daggers at his broad, retreating back and wishing cheerfully that he'd go to hell. Then she dismissed the somewhat usual encounter from her mind and looked down at the paper in her hand. Slowly she smoothed it out and grimly surveyed the colorful array of red "x's" and scratches, a large red "45" scrawled boldly along the top.

All the red made it almost festive, she mused. And hey, no matter what he said, it was still 10 points higher than her last score! But somehow she doubted that would appease her mother.

She sighed, remembering the upperclassman's cold remark. As if her day wasn't going bad enough!

"My mom is gonna kill me."

* * *

The girl was insufferable. He didn't know how she did it, but she managed to crawl under his skin on a regular basis. The day could be going well enough, but the minute he saw her it was as if all his frustrations honed in on her as a suitable outlet. And she didn't make it very hard acting as a target, with her always assaulting him with failed tests and flying shoes. 

As though his day wasn't bad enough! He had a million and one term papers to write if he wanted to get into a prestigious college. He had a part-time job that was turning out to be a huge pain in the ass . . . and if that wasn't enough, he'd had to dodge venomous spit from a grotesque youma. All in one day.

He supposed he shouldn't have been so hard on her. She must have been sad enough about her grade without him rubbing it in. Of course, he couldn't see how she hadn't become used to awful grades, judging from the sample that hit him on the head regularly. Still, her cornflower-blue eyes had been huge and teary when she had lobbed the test; then they'd turned fiery with righteous anger when he had called her Meatball Head . . . again.

Oh well, no use feeling bad about it now. He most definitely was NOT going to apologize, not when she thought his head was a trashcan. He had made the mistake of pointing that out to her once, and she had just gotten a fiendish glee in her eye and announced:

"If you can prove to me the difference between your head and a trashcan, I _might_ stop treating it like one."

That battle had gone to her, of course. He had been so angry that it had taken all his strength of will to not grab that slim neck and just squeeze . . .

Remembering the incident made him quite sure that the one who had to apologize, if anything, was she. Anyway, the girl probably had no troubles in her life except for spectacularly bad grades. He could just imagine her average day: wake up late, go to school (where she no doubt enjoyed all the privileges popularity brought) to gossip with her friends. She'd joke about some fluff-haired crush or make fun of the poor boy she had turned down after he'd tried his luck in asking her out on a date. After school she'd spend a carefree hour wasting her generous allowance at the arcade, to finally go home to a loving family, and fall asleep with no troubles to mar her sleep.

While he . . . well, he doubted she would even be able to comprehend the complexity of his life.

He stopped in front of a take-out place, pondering whether he felt like cooking a solitary meal. In the end he stepped inside and came out minutes later with a meal for one. Time to go home for dinner.

Alone.

Again.

* * *

Usagi could smell dinner as it wafted through the open windows. It was baked lamb, she was sure of it. In the time-honored tradition that her mother had established since that first failed test long ago, Usagi was locked out of the house as the rest of the family partook of dinner. Her mother had taken one look at her test and booted her out the door. Now she sat on the doorstep, salivating, as her annoying little brother made exaggerated yummy noises, knowing she could hear through the open window. Speaking of the open window. . . she had tried to climb through, but the dense bushes planted beneath them had not only impeded her progress but also scraped her knee and tangled her hair. 

Her stomach growled. She felt weak from not eating. She'd forgotten her lunch that morning--had battled a youma during lunch, actually. She'd failed another test. She had had to stay after class for arriving late after the lunch period ended. And, last but not least, had once again been made to feel like a total idiot by Chiba Mamoru. Like she needed reminding that she sucked at school.

Usagi drew up her knees and rested her forehead on them. Above all, she was tired. She didn't _like_ not being good at school. She didn't _mean _to fall asleep during class. She definitely _hated_ having to fight monsters. She didn't _want_ the responsibility of having to be the champion of love and justice, Sailor Moon. Damn it, she was a pacifist!!

She just wanted to be a normal girl, and have normal conversations about normal boys. She wanted to try on pretty clothes without wondering if she would ever live long enough to wear them.

She felt silent tears sneak past her closed eyes to run their course down her face. Great, she wasn't only a klutz; she was a crybaby, to boot!

And that cursed Chiba Mamoru loved reminding her of all her shortcomings, without ever having a clue of how hard she tried to _do_ better, _be_ better. But what did he know? A brain like that never had to worry if his parents were going to let him eat dinner next time he brought home a test. He probably had girls throwing themselves at him, and the only hard choices he had to make were whether to take out the brunette or the redhead to dinner, and where to take them to. He . . .

He had never had to kill.

The tears were coming in earnest now. Because it was easier to wail childishly than to give in to true anguish, Usagi started to make a scene and pound on the door.

Eventually her mother opened the door, sighing with exasperation as Usagi thundered past, grabbing a lamb chop on her way to her room. Truth was, Usagi wasn't hungry anymore.

* * *

The call came at exactly 3:30 am. For some odd reason, Usagi awoke before the communicator had a chance to do it for her. But then, she always seemed to know when an attack was going on. 

She fumbled with the buttons on the tiny communicator until it popped on, revealing a miniscule screen and Rei's, or Sailor Mar's, face.

"Hey, Meatball Brains. Attack at the park. You know the drill," she said, running a weary hand through raven hair.

"Okay, Mars. I'll be right there," Usagi answered. The connection broke and Usagi shared a look with her cat, Luna.

"Here we go again, Luna."

The black cat's eyes sparkled eerily, as cat's eyes tend to do. "As always, Usagi-chan. Day or night, rain or sleet! The Sailor Senshi--"

"Luna, we're not the postal service. We, unlike them, do not get paid," grouched Usagi.

Luna gave her a disdainful glance and jumped out the window, fully expecting Usagi to follow.

Usagi grabbed her transformation brooch and headed for the window, pausing only long enough to look once more at the clock. 3:35. Yet another fitful sleep interrupted. Yet another night of fighting faceless monsters, both in her dreams and in her life.

Yes, she knew the drill.

* * *

If later asked to describe it, Mamoru would have to say that it was neither a pain nor an emotion. It was hard to put into words. It was more like a burst of awareness, if anything. And almost. . . voyeuristic. 

Yes, voyeuristic. Perhaps that was a weird word to use, but it honestly did feel as if he were spying on someone else's feelings. It was usually the distinct pinch of fear, though adrenaline was also blatantly present. Yet, he knew that these feelings weren't his, but were passed on to him.

What woke him that night felt sharper than it usually did. He felt fear, adrenaline, and . . . despair. Weariness. It was sharp enough to have him heave out of bed, panting. Of course, it only took him a moment to figure out what it was: somewhere out there Sailor Moon needed him, and needed him badly.

He didn't know why, of all the people in the world, the superhero Sailor Moon needed him, Chiba Mamoru. But that's the way it was and past experience had taught him that to fight the summons only brought him pain. He didn't want to fight it, anyway. He loved fighting at her side. It felt right somehow. Naturally, he had no clue why they should share that connection, but he would enjoy the feeling of belonging for as long as he could. And, if she could somehow lead him to his dream princess, then all the better! Maybe then his inexplicable dreams of a beautiful princess beseeching him for help would fade.

Of course, the fact that Sailor Moon was gorgeous and had legs up to her neck made the fighting a bit more bearable.

Still, he had school early tomorrow morning--an exam at 8:30 am. Glancing at the glowing digits of his bedside alarm, he was more than sure that he would get no more than three more hours of sleep that night, if that. It was 3:40 am.

With an oath he swung out of his warm bed and moved towards the large balcony across the room. It seemed as if a red rose appeared out of thin air in his hand. In a flash he was clothed in a formal black tuxedo, complete with red-lined cape. It wouldn't have been his first or even thirty-seventh choice for a costume, but he apparently was the recepient of some bad karma and had no say in the matter.

Tuxedo Mask jumped agilely from the balcony, spanning the distance to the next rooftop easily as he cut a dashing figure across the glowing face of the moon.

Again, he would never know how to explain how he always knew where to find her. Perhaps like a thread connected right to his soul, and he simply reeled himself in. Whatever one would wish to describe it as, he followed this connection unerringly.

He knew the drill.

* * *

It was another ugly one; they usually were. You know, the whole youma bit: fangs and fur and claws and stuff. Gooey, slimy gunk dripping from massive jaws, and all packaged in an incongruous feminine form. Sailor Moon always wondered why most of them seemed female. Ah, well. 

She dodged one claw right, only to jump left again as Mar's burst of flame came uncomfortably close to searing her eyebrows.

"Mars!" she growled, "a little precision, please?"

Mars dashed past her and leapt to the leafy branch of a nearby tree. "You just concentrate on watching out for those ridiculous ponytails of yours!" she shouted back.

Sailor Moon huffed, then "eeked!" as needle-sharp fur flew by her nose.

The darned thing wouldn't stop moving, so she couldn't get a fix with her wand. Meanwhile, the other Senshi were trying to stun it long enough, or damage it enough, for it to stop moving. Right now, none of their attacks seemed to be even hitting the demon.

She swung around, frustrated, as the beast ran circles around them. It alternately clawed and shot razor-sharp fur at them, too quick to ever stay in one place for too long. The Senshi sported various cuts and scrapes from where they had been a little too slow to get out of the way, had thought a move out too much. Hesitation was a real killer in this line of business.

And Sailor Moon sure did tend to hesitate a lot.

"OUCH!" The youma had just let loose a sonic bark, which had sent Moon flying backwards to skid painfully to a halt on her butt. She stood and rubbed the offended area, glaring at the drooling monster. "That one really hurt, you know. And could someone please offer this thing a breath mint?"

"Get out of the way, stupid! And stop joking around!!" Rei shouted from a nearby tree. "Can't you take anything seriously?"

Sailor Moon's saucy smile slipped a notch, but she forced it back on. She'd rather die than admit that the only way for her to get past the fear was to make jokes. And because she was so scared at the moment that her knees shook, she stopped right in the middle of the field for the express purpose of thumbing her nose in Mar's direction. "You just keep the fire going, Pyro!"

"Ahem! Excuse me, but do you two think you might be able to fit fighting this thing into your schedules?" Jupiter kept Sailor Moon from being slobbered on by throwing a lightning bolt at the advancing brute. "And Mercury, dear, can you hurry up with that analysis?!"

"I'm trying!" shouted a harried Sailor Mercury. "If it would just . . . stand . . . still!" she added through her teeth.

"Okay, I'm going in for a try." Though Sailor Venus was relatively new to the group, she had easily fallen into their rhythm as if she had been fighting alongside them for years. She could even find amusement in Mars'and Moon's ringside fights, provided they didn't get themselves killed. She jumped down lightly and shot out a golden chain, seemingly out of thin air. At the very instant when they all thought the chain would wrap around the youma successfully the monster leapt over the links and remained unbound.

"Ah, shoot! If it had stood still just a second, I woulda had her!"

"If it's a second you need . . ." The harsh, disembodied voice startled the girls enough to have Mars lose her footing on the tree branch to land somewhat comically with a thud in a bush. At the same time, a flash of red pierced the ground before the youma and exploded into blinding white light.

In a second the white light had faded and the beast stood with a slightly perplexed look on its face just long enough for Venus to send out her chain once more. As the enchanted links wrapped around the monster Sailor Moon began to chant the words of her attack, and the area was washed in light once more, a painfully human-sounding scream erupting from the monster.

* * *

He'd been watching them fight from the nearby cover of a tree for close to fifteen minutes now. The warriors had thrown a multitude of attacks the youma's way and he could see that they had begun to tire. For his part, he analyzed the fight from every angle and tried to find the way that he would be of most use to them. Primarily, though, he kept an eye out for Sailor Moon, guarding her safety above all else.

Tuxedo Mask had already been on the point of spiriting her out of harm's way more than once during this fight, only to clench his fists and fight off the overwhelming urge to just take her far, far away from the battle. He knew she was the only one with enough power to utterly destroy the monster, so he kept his unexplainable protective instincts in check.

Instead, he watched her fumble around the battlefield, marveling at her ability to stay light-hearted in the face of her fear. Because she was afraid, terribly so. No matter how teasing her comments or how brave her smile, he could feel her fear as if it were his own.

He had also noticed, by observing her during various battles, that what seemed like sheer, foolish luck was not what had her stumbling out of harm's way more often than not. Whereas the other Senshi's moves were graceful and honed, the innate training of those who had been born to protect and defend, Sailor Moon seemed only to trip and flounder her way out of danger and, ironically, closer to the monster. He doubted any of the others, along with Sailor Moon herself, had noticed that Sailor Moon's seemingly disjointed movements were as much a part of her warrior instincts as theirs. Her objective was always to get as close to the monster as possible to kill it, while the Senshi made sure she got there in one piece.

But, barring those strategically timed klutz-attacks that served Sailor Moon's purpose more often than not, he could not understand the heedless risks she took in battle. He wanted to scream at her, to just grab her and shake sense into her when she advanced recklessly. It was as if he were watching two different entities: the warrior and the child. The warrior wielded power beyond comprehension, and the child had the power to destroy the warrior in one moment of carelessness. It simply made him furious!

And, the truth was, it scared him witless when he saw her take such risks. Some part of him, one he didn't fully wish to look into, knew that losing that link with her would be more painful than all his past miseries combined.

So it was with that jarring note of anger in his voice that he called down to the warriors, promising to give them the time they needed to attack. He threw a rose before the monster and willed it to stun, then watched the battle proceed from there.

When nothing remained but a scattered pile of ashes, he jumped down from his hiding place and looked toward the group of girls that had congregated in the middle of the field. Usually, he would disappear again, thus avoiding any uncomfortable questions and also avoiding the power that drew him unerringly to the warrior Sailor Moon. Tonight, his anger was too raw, his fear too fresh, to walk away.

He gave up to the link that lured him to her and began to stride across the field.

* * *

to be continued

* * *

I'll be posting the other chapters in a very timely manner. Since all the written work is done for me, no need to wait 3 years for an update! I'll just be taking the time to edit them slightly before I post. 


	2. Chapter 2

Title: First Truths -- chapter 2

Author: Lilac Summers

This story does deviate a bit from the regular storyline, where Sailor Venus doesn't join up until right before Mamoru and Usagi figure everything out. Here, I've placed Venus in the group a few weeks before any revelations.

_Italics indicate thought. mostly. _

* * *

Part 2 

Sailor Mars was going through a play-by-play of the night's fight and, more specifically, Sailor Moon's various mistakes.

"First off, where were you when they handed out balance?! I swear, it's a wonder you have survived these fourteen years! And, really, what were you thinking when you stopped in the middle of the field?! You were a clear target! I'm convinced, truly convinced, that all that sugar you eat during the day is going straight to your head and making you more of a fluff-brain than you already are!"

Sailor Moon tuned Mars out. There was no real heat in her voice, anyway. And though she would enjoy insulting her back on most occasions, all she wanted now was to crawl back into bed and sleep. So she leaned up against the tall Sailor Jupiter and proceeded to nap on her feet, serving the dual purpose of catching up on her sleep and driving Mars further up the wall.

Mars, however, was undaunted, and continued to expound on Moon's many faults even after Sailor Moon started to snore softly in her face.

"Give it up, Mars. She isn't listening to you," laughed Jupiter, reaching out a long arm to steady her napping friend.

"Well, she should. I don't know how many times..." continued Sailor Mars, nonetheless lowering her voice as it finally registered that Sailor Moon had actually fallen asleep.

"Ah, give her a break. Her day didn't go that great. I heard Ms. Harun--"

Sailor Mercury flailed desperately to cut off Venus' revealing speech, clamping her hand tightly over the other girl's mouth. Wide eyed, Venus turned to stare at her usually reserved friend, only to catch sight of what had set Mercury off. A tall, elegant figure strode purposely towards their group, cape fluttering behind him. Tuxedo Mask.

The four stood in various states of disbelief, watching the man who'd always disappeared from them finally step forward, and quite forgetting their dozing leader leaning on Jupiter's shoulder. It was the first time that Tuxedo Mask had ever approached them after a battle; normally he would be gone as soon as the battle ended. As it was, the only Senshi who had had extended contact with him was Sailor Moon, and only because, more often than not, he had to whisk her away from danger.

But now he made his way to them, his obvious destination the blonde Odango-headed leader in their center.

Sailor Jupiter was in a quandary, staring at this imposing man standing before her, and wondering how in the world she had forgotten that Sailor Moon had fallen asleep. And there simply was _no_ subtle way to wake her. She tried to play it off, as if having Sailor moon fall asleep on her feet and use her, Sailor Jupiter, as a pillow was a totally regular occurrence. She straightened her head and found, amazingly, that for the first time in her life she was intimidated by a man. His eyes, behind the white domino mask, were blazing with emotions and a passion that would have brought a lesser woman to her knees. She could only gulp when she realized those incredible eyes weren't directed at her, but her sleeping friend.

Jupiter didn't know whether to pity Sailor Moon or envy her.

Sailor Mars was the first to find her voice. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, a bit unnerved at the intensity of his gaze.

Tuxedo Mask turned slightly at the blatant hostility in her voice, but did not take his eyes off Sailor Moon. "I am here only to speak to Sailor Moon," he said calmly.

Sailor Mars took an offensive step forward. "Look, buddy, we have no clue who you are. You haven't been very forthcoming about your intentions, either, so how do we know if you're an enemy or not? I'm not letting you one step near her if you don't tell us what you want straight up."

"My intention is not to hurt Sailor Moon, or any of you. I would think that my actions in that matter would speak for themselves. I only wish to have a few words with her." Tuxedo Mask clenched his fists under the cover of his cape, the reality of being so close to Sailor Moon beginning to pull slowly on his bond with her. He felt as if a large invisible hand were inexorably pushing him closer and closer to the dozing blonde, and his frustration started to build towards this warrior who barred his way.

"That's not gonna cut it! That's not enough! If you really don't wish us any harm, if you just want--"

"It's okay, Sailor Mars. Let him talk." Sailor Moon's quiet words cut through Mars' tirade abruptly. The girls, not realizing that Moon had awoken, (and more than a little surprised that it hadn't taken an act of God to do so,) turned to stare at their leader.

Sailor Moon straightened slowly from her comfortable position against Jupiter, glancing swiftly towards her friend and smiling her thanks. However, most of her attention was focused on the man before her, this mysterious man who drew her in some inexplicable way. Just standing here, so close, made her heart pump erratically, not unlike her frequent squabbles with Mamor . . . But no, she wouldn't think of that.

Mars looked at Sailor Moon uncertainly, dozens of arguments rising and dying in her throat. But how futile would it be to keep the two, Tuxedo and Moon, apart? Already she could feel the energy surrounding the couple leaping to palpable amounts. It shimmered over them like a wave of moonlight, making Mars feel as though she intruded upon their own private universe. _Uh-oh, this is not good..._

Sailor Moon stepped through the protective surrounding of her friends and towards Tuxedo Mask. The closer she walked, the more insistent the pull became. Finally, without the distracting presence of danger that surrounded them whenever he saved her, she could focus on the intense amount of sheer electricity that she felt every time she got close to him. Two more steps brought her to stand directly before him so she had to crane her neck to meet his eyes. Though she could not actually see through the opaque shield of the mask, she felt his gaze sear into her with an intensity that frightened her. Some detached part of her realized that her Senshi had grouped behind her, presenting a solid front of support.

Tuxedo Mask's eyes flickered over her shoulder to look at the protective line of Senshi behind Sailor Moon. He appreciated their show of loyalty to their leader. Nonetheless, he could only think that the things he had to say to Sailor Moon would not go over well with them. It was one thing to have Mars, no doubt a close friend, berate Moon, and another entirely to have a perfect stranger do the same.

"I'd like to talk to her alone." It was a command more than a request.

"Yeah, well, I'd like to know who the hell you are. I guess we'll both have to settle with what we can get," sneered Mars.

The other, less vocal Scouts seemed a bit unnerved by Mars' hostility, but did not intervene. Tuxedo Mask did not doubt for one second that they agreed with her, even if they did not say it so rudely. He debated briefly whether he should appreciate her show of bravado or just be angry as hell. He reasoned that he would have probably said the same thing in their situation, but Sailor Moon's nearness was doing strange things to his brain, scrambling it so all he could think of was being alone with her. For the first time in his life, Tuxedo Mask threw caution to the wind and gave into the driving emotions that swirled through him.

"You settle, then, and I'll take," he growled. Swiftly he pulled a shocked Sailor Moon into his arms and leapt nimbly into the sky.

Jupiter screamed in outrage and made to follow. She felt oddly betrayed, expecting a more gentile reaction from the masked man. Venus was fast on her heels, following the swift formof Tuxedo Mask. However, just as Mercury prepared to jump after them, Mars grabbed her arm. She and the others stumbled to a halt.

"Mars?"

The priestess' eyes flared midnight-purple in the light of a street lamp. "Leave him. He won't hurt her. He really does just want to talk, I think."

Mercury frowned in confusion. "You _think_. Wait. You were practically down his throat back there. I can't believe you want to just let him leave with Usagi. We don't know who he is!"

"That's right! I don't know-- I didn't expect him to just jump off with her! He's unpredictable. Who knows what he's up to? We can't let him just get away with her like this," snapped Jupiter.

"It's a feeling, you guys. You're going to have to trust me on this one."

"I just don't know, Rei," sighed Mercury. Jupiter shifted indecisively behind her.

The three Senshi turned to their newest ally, Sailor Venus. She had just joined them a few weeks back, but had the most fighting experience of them all; thus, her opinion was highly valued.

Venus chewed her lower lip in frustration. Her mind was fighting a fierce battle with her heart. As a fighter, she knew that the safest, most logical response was to chase after the man, force him to relinquish Usagi, and then force the answers they sought out of him. But her heart, that part of her that contained the very essence of the Goddess of Love, was thrumming angrily in her veins. She'd never felt it before, but she knew what that resonance was: two souls locked together. _You felt it. . . you tasted its power. What you do here is inconsequential. The tie cannot be broken._ Yes, when Moon and Mask had stared into each other's eyes, Venus had felt their power like a physical force slamming into her psyche. What it all came down to, she thought to herself, was that nothing she or any of the other Senshi did would make one whit of difference against the immensity of that attraction.

She met Mars' dark eyes and shared a look of understanding. Mars had sensed it, too.

In the end, there was no decision to make.

"Let them go. We stay."

* * *

Well, thought Sailor Moon, this was new. For once, not only was Tuxedo not running away from her, he was actually taking her with him! It really was a new experience, being held in his arms with no slobbering youma chasing them, or blasting them, or clawing them, or . . . oh, there were just so many possibilities. 

It was quite, quite nice.

She turned her head from where it rested on the strong curve of his shoulder, trying to get a good look at the masked man who'd played the starring role in many of her recent dreams. He was so much the vision of any young girl's romantic dreams that it was almost laughable. She wanted to tug on his cheeks just to see if he was real. Because real guys didn't look that good. Or, if they did, they weren't heroic and dashing and sweet. Point: take Mamoru, for instance. Even she could tell he was gorgeous. Just because she hated the guy didn't mean she was blind, for god's sake. But he was a royal pain in the ass half the time, and the rest of the time he was worse!

What would Mamoru say, she wondered, if he could see her now? What would he think if he knew that klutzy Usagi was in the arms of the most dashing, desirable man ever made? And she wasn't just plain Usagi tonight, but Sailor Moon! Fighter for Love and Justice! She would have paid good money to have Mamoru see her now, flying off into the moonlight with none other than Tuxedo Mask, little shivers of electricity dancing up and down her spine.

Or--she realized, sobering instantly--what would Tuxedo Mask say if he knew who _she_ really was? How disappointed would he be were he to know that Sailor Moon was nothing more than a dumb teenage girl, a gawky blonde who failed her classes and couldn't walk five steps without falling? What would he think if he knew that every time she saw a demon, all she truly wanted to do was turn around and run the other way?

Usagi looked down abruptly, fearing that her hero might look down at any moment and discern the truth from her gaze. Being in his arms didn't seem so exciting anymore, not when tears threatened her eyes and insecurity was beating away at all those little shocks of awareness.

Oh god, she couldn't believe she was actually going to cry! Here she was, living out one of her favorite daydream, and she was going to start bawling like a baby.

Usagi buried her hot face against his neck and clutched his jacket tighter, praying they wouldn't get where they were headed until after her tears had dried.

* * *

Blonde hair was flying all around him, slithering over his neck, his face, his arms...just everywhere. He doubted he'd ever felt anything quite like it. He was flying through a web of golden silk, and it wrapped around him like it didn't want to let him go. 

Tuxedo Mask shook his head, mildly amused at himself. He was ready to scold the heck out of the girl he held in his arms, and he was waxing poetic about her hair! He glanced down briefly at her, looking at the top of her bowed head, and a picture of Usagi came into his head. He frowned and almost faltered. Now, what the heck was he doing thinking about her, of all people?! Other than the obvious, that Usagi and Sailor Moon shared the same hairstyle, the two were as alike as night and day!

Tuxedo Mask gathered Sailor Moon closer and leapt over the wide chasm between two rooftops, enjoying the feel of her body pressed up against his side entirely too much. Focus, focus...he had to focus! And he also had to be realistic, he told himself. This was a superhero he was holding. This woman held more power in her pinky finger than he would ever be able to fathom. He, Chiba Mamoru, was an orphan with no background, no family, and nothing to offer this world other than the somewhat absurd ability of throwing roses and dressing in a tuxedo. Although he was sure he'd be a hit at a florists' convention, he didn't see what exactly he had to offer a girl who turned youma into dust with focused blasts of energy.

It was ludicrous, actually, how much he'd been romanticized in the view of Tokyo's population. Rumors abounded about the mystery man who aided the Senshi. He'd become the kind of stereotypical prince-in-shining-armor that fueled the imagination of girls. Idly he wondered if maybe Usagi had ever thought about Tuxedo Mask and sighed dreamily. And how, he smiled sourly, disillusioned would all those girls be if they only knew the man behind the mask.

He stole another look at Sailor Moon just as she looked away. Had she been studying him? Discerning what lies hid beneath the tuxedo?

But what lies, he pondered briefly, hid behind the glittering magic that hid the heroine's identity?

Who was she underneath the illusionary field that masked her as completely as his white domino masked him? How was it that she could make him feel as though his entire existence drew meaning only from her? His body made only for her? He suddenly felt the driving urge to _know_: a feeling that if he could only figure out who Sailor Moon truly was, he would find a peace, a happiness, unparalleled.

He felt a dampness against his neck. Startled, he realized Sailor Moon had buried her face against him and was quietly weeping. He almost went frantic, unsure how to handle the situation, how to handle the jumble of feelings and impressions that she was inadvertently feeding him through their link.

Ultimately, he did the only thing he could do. He kept going, running away for the both of them, Sailor Moon sobbing softly in his embrace.

* * *

They landed on the rooftop of a warehouse overlooking the docks. Although the moon gilded the waters of the bay silver, the spot itself was not really conducive to romance. Derelict warehouses and broken-down boats graced the pier, smutty shadows slinking into the corners the moon refused to touch. 

Tuxedo Mask set Sailor Moon down gently and they stood, bodies slightly grazing, for an interminable moment. Either neither was willing to break the intimate contact or they were unaware that they stood there, mute and staring at each other, for many silent seconds. With agonizing slowness he lifted one hand to her face. Her cheeks were stained with the course of salty tears and he wanted, so very much, to ask her what was wrong. He wanted to soothe her, comfort her, protect her, love--No No NO! What was he thinking!? His hand dropped back to his side.

Sailor Moon stood, breathless, as Tuxedo Mask moved to touch her face. _What's going to happen now?! Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod.._. What was that expression on his face? Why couldn't she stop staring at the sensual curve of his lips? Sailor Moon felt all the butterflies in her stomach dance wildly in anticipation, only to come to a screeching halt in disappointment as he withdrew his hand, never once touching her face.

It wasn't until a wayward breeze swept over them and tossed Sailor Moon's hair between them that Tuxedo Mask stepped away. He could almost hear the bond between them protest at even that slight separation, begging him to step in again, closer to her. But then the breeze died, her hair settled around her like a mantle, and Sailor Moon's tears had dried.

"So," began Sailor Moon, suddenly self-conscious with the silence, "what'd you want to talk about?"

It actually took Tuxedo Mask a moment to remember just why, exactly, he'd brought her here, but he remembered. How to broach the subject, though, was another problem entirely. It felt so contrived going back to acting the distant stranger he'd played before in their encounters. But it was really the only path he could take.

"I need to talk to you about your fighting, Sailor Moon," he began coldly.

Sailor Moon felt her hopes disintegrate around her and sighed, not all that surprised. What were the chances, after all, that he had brought her here to confess any kind of feeling for her? _That only happens in dreams, Usagi. In your dreams._ The weight of her insecurities settled comfortably on her shoulders once more. She sighed again and sunk, depleted, to sit on the roof. It seemed all her energy had simply bled out of her and her legs refused to hold her up any longer.

"Alright," she said softly, "go ahead." Beautiful way to end the evening, after all...getting scolded by both Rei and Tuxie. The way her day had gone, why had she thought her night would go any better?

Tuxedo Mask paused at her soft concession. She sat bonelessly on the tin-covered roof, eyes gazing up at him tiredly. She looked positively exhausted, dark circles bruising the delicate skin beneath her eyes. Even her hair was limp and tame in the moonlight as she drew it around her like a blanket. Tuxedo Mask wondered how much sleep she'd gotten, or when she had to wake up. Was she getting enough sleep, he fretted, then was angry with himself for feeling so protective.

"Yes, your fighting," he began to pace in front of her, boots making sharp echoes on the tin roof. "You've become careless. Maybe you're getting cocky, and it's not good. One must never underestimate one's opponents! I can't be there to pull you out of trouble every time you stumble, every time you hesitate." His voice grew in fervor, finally venting out the fear and frustration he felt whenever he saw her fight.

"You have to focus! Plan ahead, use more cover, follow orders! When one of the other girls tells you to step back, do it! They're only looking out for you. You play a key role in destroying the beast, and you must not endanger yourself unduly. If I can't reach you in time, I--" he broke off, realizing that she'd tuned him out completely. He watched, more than a little insulted, as she gave a jaw-cracking yawn.

Sailor Moon was fighting to stay awake. The sweet irony of it all, she mused, was to finally get to be alone with Tuxedo Mask and have him, of all people, try to lecture her. Had she not been so tired it might have made more of an impression. God knew she valued his opinion, dreaded over what he might think of her. But, in a way, she was fiercely happy that tonight she was too tired to care, because otherwise this situation would have horrified her. Soon enough she'd be able to look back on this night, fully rested, and be truly mortified. For now, she'd huddle into herself and pretend he was doing anything other than chastising her.

Angry at her inattentiveness, Tuxedo Mask strode towards her and settled on his haunches before her, jerking her face up with one hand. "You aren't listening," he accused. "I'm not telling you this to hear myself talk. You have to shape up!"

Of course, that woke her up. Or, at least woke her up so that she cared that he was humiliating her. She forced her eyelids open and glared at this man who'd suddenly began to act like her father. "Just who do you think you are to tell me what to do?"

He leaned back, startled. Whatever response he'd expected, that was not the one. From the few previous conversations he'd had with her, she had seemed so pliant, so eager to please. She'd never stung back, no matter how cold he'd been towards her. Sailor Moon could have told him that, had she not been so tired, she might very well be a puddle of tears on the floor beneath his feet by now.

Alas, Usagi, without her sleep, was very cranky.

"Hey, I'm just trying to help. If you can't do your job, then I can't get what I need, and you can't do whatever it is you girls want to do," he bit out.

She waved an airy hand in front of him. "Well, then. _Thank you!_ Consider me helped. It's good to know I'm useful for _something_ to you," she drawled.

"Listen," he growled, reaching for that nonchalant hand and trapping it between his own, "that's not what I--What? What's wrong?"

Sailor Moon flinched again as he squeezed her hand, sending her tired nerve endings on a painful spree. She snatched her hand back. "Nothing," she muttered.

His eyes narrowed in suspicion and concern. "No, not nothing. Let me see."

She glared at him defiantly. "NO! Just leave me alone. I'll be fine."

He gave her an "I don't think so" kind of look and they wrestled briefly over her hand. He won out quickly once she decided she'd rather get this over with and go home to catch some sleep.

He was left with her small, gloved hand in his large one. He turned it over gently but could find no rips in the cloth, no blood staining the fabric. He wanted to ask her again what was wrong, but one look at her pouting face and he was sure he'd get no response. Well, there was only one thing to do. He firmly grasped the top of the elbow-length glove and peeled it back, revealing a slim, pale arm. She remained silent.

Her hand was incredibly soft--and incredibly raw. The tips of her fingers were slightly singed, as though she'd been running them over the flame of a candle. He bit back a curse and turned angry eyes on her. "How did this happen?"

Sailor Moon was thoroughly flustered. Somehow, having him hold her naked hand was very disturbing. She looked over the bruises and smoke marks without concern, trying to draw back her hand. "See? I told you it was nothing! It's just the regular effect of the Moon Wand. It fades fast, anyway."

He gaped at her. Did she mean she went through this every time? Not for the first time, he wondered how much energy she channeled through that wand to send out such an intense beam of power. He searched her face before she looked down to put on her glove, with this new information in mind. He noted how her shoulders trembled with fatigue, how her fingers shook as she tried to force them back into the glove. He'd been too dense, too self absorbed, to notice how her lethargy went beyond mere sleepiness. She drained her power repeatedly, every week, to battle the youmas. He'd been so quick to leave after each fight, he'd never noticed how she tended to lag behind the other Senshi once they finished the battle, or he'd simply thought nothing of it.

And he, moron that he was, had dragged here out here so he could lecture her.

"Sailor Moon...I'm sorry. I presumed too much. Please accept my apology." He waited breathlessly for her response, trying to act cool and unaffected all the same. When over thirty seconds had passed and she had yet to raise her head and forgive him, he began to worry.

"Very well. I understand I overstepped my bounds. It won't happen again." And still she remained silent. Tuxedo Mask was genuinely surprised. He'd always thought her the kind of person who'd forgive easily. _I guess it would have been too much to ask._

He turned away, hiding the hurt he felt at her rejection. Whatever happened, he must never show her he cared. "I'll take you back to your friends," he said slowly. Figuring she may be too tired to stand up on her own, he strode back to her and lifted her to her feet.

Her head fell back, the weight of her hair dragging back on her neck. Her lips were slightly parted as her breath passed gently through. She was fast asleep.

Tuxedo Mask didn't know whether to be relieved or embarrassed, apologizing to a sleeping superhero as he had. Whatever. He figured this impromptu rendezvous was over, and not a moment too soon.

He gathered her in his arms and she snuggled closer in her sleep, her head finding its resting place against the crook of his shoulder and her hand slipping deftly into his jacket. He gulped and almost dropped her, feeling much more heated than he should on such a cool night.

He was playing a dangerous game. This was no regular girl he could ever hope to have a relationship with. He felt, deep down in his bones, that this young woman he held in his arms held, in turn, the fate of the world in her own. How could he hope to compete with that?

* * *

It was nearing 5 a.m. when Tuxedo Mask approached a group of four wary girls, a slumbering Sailor Moon in his arms. Sailor Jupiter immediately ran up to him, snatching Sailor Moon from his arms. 

"What did you do to her?!" she demanded, settling Sailor Moon on her back in a piggyback position. "I swear, if you hurt her..."

Tuxedo Mask stayed silent and impassive, watching the group alternately fuss over Sailor Moon and accuse him of homicide. It didn't take Mercury long to figure out that Sailor Moon was doing nothing more than snoozing.

"Everyone, calm down. She's just asleep." She directed curious eyes towards Tuxedo Mask. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he replied succinctly. "We were talking and then she simply fell asleep. If you want to know more, you'll have to ask her." And then he was gone, simple as that.

The four Senshi watched his shadowy form retreat quickly, then turned back to their leader.

"She's really out of it," commented Sailor Mars, smoothing a wayward pigtail off Sailor Moon's face.

"Hmmm. The energy drain and sleep debt must have combined so she couldn't stay awake any longer. Poor Usagi-chan," sighed Sailor Mercury.

"Poor Usagi-chan? Whatever! Now I'm going to have to wait a whole day to know what happened with Tux boy tonight!" complained Sailor Venus.

The four shared a guilty laugh over that, generally acting as the teenage girls they were.

"Guys, we have less than three hours before we have to get ready for school. Let's take her home and hope Luna can wake her up for school tomorrow," advised Sailor Jupiter.

They left, Jupiter carrying Sailor Moon, and the park was peaceful once more.

* * *

to be continued

* * *

There used to be an "Ode to a Wet Bike-Seat" here. Be very, very thankful that I've taken it out in deference to everyone's mental health. 


	3. Chapter 3

Title: First Truths -- Chapter 3

Author: Lilac Summers

Rated: PG

It's great seeing the reviews from some of you guys who read this years ago! And yes, I remember your names from before. :) I appreciate that you took the time to drop me a line. As for those who are reading this for the first time, thank you for letting me know how you feel about this story so far.

Disclaimer: I own neither the characters associated to Sailor Moon, nor the imaginary park bench this episode takes place on. Sailor Moon belongs to Naoko Takeuchi, and the park bench belongs to The Park Bench Gnomes that Live in the Forest of Malcontent (TPBGLFM).

_indicates thought by a character. mostly._

* * *

Chapter 3 

It was a glorious day! Her mother, the don't-you-come-back-in-here-until-you-pass-your-test mother, had taken one look at her this morning and turned into Ah-my-poor-baby-are-you-feeling-okay mother. Even Luna, more a stickler about schoolwork than her mom, had taken one look at Usagi's haggard face and consented, somewhat guiltily, that Usagi should take a day off from school and get some rest.

So that's what Usagi had done, sleeping deeply until two in the afternoon. Her mother had then pressed a hearty lunch on her, of which Usagi'd been more than happy to partake, then shooed her outside so Usagi could get some fresh air and sunlight.

Usagi was now feeling spiffy, lounging on a park bench, staring drowsily at a group of playing children, and congratulating herself on earning a little holiday. _Why, maybe fighting all the time isn't all that bad...if I get to take every Friday off._ Of course, mention of fighting brought her mood plummeting straight down. She'd been trying so hard to keep her mind off last night's disastrous meeting with Tuxedo Mask.

She groaned and covered her face with her hands, fighting the remembered humiliation. _Stupid, stupid stupid!! You finally get to talk __to him and you FALL ASLEEP!! God, Usagi, shape up!_

But that wasn't even the worst of it! The worst part was the fact that Tuxedo Mask, her savior, her hero, her idol, her everything, had called her incompetent. It was the very last nail in the coffin, driving the point that Usagi totally sucked at everything she did. _Come on, girl, how hard can pointing a little wand thingy be?! WHY are you such a screw-up?_ And why...oh, why couldn't Tuxedo Mask see how the very last thing she ever needed from him was criticism?

Usagi heard the shrieks of laughter from the kids and wished that she could join in, escape the reality of another failure for even a little while. She slanted one eye open and watched enviously as they played with a raggedy frisbee, throwing it with more enthusiasm than talent. Then a little girl misjudged distance and threw the disk right at Usagi.

Usagi watched dispassionately as it flew towards her face with frightening speed. It would take a simple reflex to catch the disc expertly, but she really didn't care if it hit her or not. Poetic justice to get knocked out by a frisbee of all things. After all, maybe she'd get a concussion and wouldn't have to face Tuxedo Mask in another fight for a long, long time.

Usagi closed her eyes and waited for it to hit, wondering idly just how much it would hurt...

"My god, you are the laziest girl I've ever seen! Can't you even move long enough to get out of the way, Odango Atama?"

Usagi would recognize that voice anywhere. _How couldn't I recognize the voice of the very devil himself?_ She didn't even have to open her eyes to see that he'd also caught the frisbee, ruining her chance at unconsciousness.

"Hello, Satan. Out for a neighborly stroll today, looking for new souls to suck dry?" she deadpanned, feeling the cleansing power of anger wash over her depression. Well, if she couldn't let some kids bonk her on the head, she might as well take out her frustrations on him.

Mamoru frowned down at the girl on the bench and carelessly threw the frisbee back at the group of kids. He didn't like the fact that she hadn't even deigned to look at him when she insulted him.

"You are the most infuriating kid," he commented, smiling shortly when she grimaced at the word "kid." "And don't call me Satan."

"Then don't call me Odango Atama," she countered.

"I'll call you whatever I want, Odango Atama."

"Whatever, Satan."

"Odango Ata-" Mamoru stopped, blushing furiously as he realized how childish he was acting. Correction: how childishly she had prompted him into acting. He, mature 17 year-old, refused to stoop to the level of this teenage girl.

"Anyway...what's a kid like you doing out of school? Did you ditch? Or did you just whine until your parents let you stay home?" he sneered.

Usagi almost opened her eyes and sat up, seething with righteous anger. How dare he? He had no clue how worn out she was from fighting each night! He had no idea how difficult it was to sludge through school, always tired. But at the very last minute she dropped back down on the bench, flinging her arm over her eyes, just so she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of her.

"Yeah," she muttered, "that's it. That's me. Always conning my parents into letting me out of class. Lazy Usagi. You know me so well."

Mamoru paused, his senses giving off little warning bells at her quiet answer. There was so much sadness beneath the flippant tone. He would almost think he had hurt her feelings somehow.

"Look, bud, it's been great chatting with you, as always," she drawled, "but couldn't you just go away and look for some other _kid_ to bother?"

The darndest thing was, that was exactly what he'd been about to do. He hadn't even planned on coming over here in the first place! Except that he'd been passing by, and she looked so peaceful lying on the bench, glorying in the sun. _Peaceful...uh-huh. You liar. She looked __beautiful, that's how she looked..._ Mamoru frowned those thoughts away.

So what if he had been drawn to her? He was a guy, just like any other. Guys tended to notice how good a girl looked in short shorts, and a thin shirt, with miles of blonde hair cascading over a bench. At least, this guy did. But besides all that, Odango Atama was fun to tease . . . when she wasn't being a pain. He thought he could handle brief, VERY brief, periods of talking to her. Too much and his thoughts would turn homicidal.

Anyway, the plan had been to insult her, laugh at her, and leave. He'd done the first two, and he had planned on leaving the very second before she told him to do so. Of course now, perversely, he couldn't leave. It'd make her think she could order him around! Chiba Mamoru could not be ordered around by a ditzy junior high school student.

"No way. You are taking up the best spot in the park. I'm not going to let you, annoying as you may be, run me out of here."

Usagi rolled her eyes, then realized he couldn't see them as she still had her arm over them, and decided to snort at him, instead. "Whatever. Just don't bother me and I'll try to forget you're here."

Mamoru stood uselessly at the head of the bench, staring down at her with acute dislike. _I should just go. Just walk away and let her keep __that damned spot. Why the hell am I here, anyway?_ But he couldn't force his feet to move, pride having rooted him to the spot.

After a few seconds of feeling foolish standing there, he growled down at her, "Move over. It's not your own private bench."

She finally decided to look at him, baring angry blue eyes. "NO! I was here first!"

"You're taking up the whole damn bench. Move over so I can sit down. Don't be so selfish."

"Sit on the ground, like a good little dog, right at my feet. Or, better yet, you can be true to your form, Satan, and go straight to hel-"

She was cut short as he forcibly hauled her upwards, wedging himself where her head used to be. She hissed angrily and refused to be moved.

When the tumult was over, they found themselves in a very uncomfortable position. Usagi was shocked to find her head resting on his lap, and Mamoru was dismayed to notice this, too. They both stared at each other in disbelief, yet both too stubborn to rectify the situation.

_Oh my god. This is so humiliating. If my friends see me now, I'll __never hear the end of this. I should move. I should really move. But __NO! I was here first! Damn it, why does he have to be so annoying?! _Usagi shut her eyes angrily, fully expecting him to make the move that would save her poor head from being...cradled on his lap.

_Shit. This was not supposed to happen. Why does she have to be so stubborn? She's such a child!_ _I'll be damned if I move, though._ Mamoru sat back, waiting for her to finally get OFF him, completely sure that she'd back off soon enough and hightail it away, leaving him alone. Why on earth did he have to be so adamant today, anyway? He swore, Odango Atama brought out the very worst in him.

So there they stayed, each waiting for the other to take action. Seconds passed. Somewhere along the line they finally realized neither of them was going to budge. Usagi opened her eyes and glared balefully up at Mamoru, and he returned the look.

"Jerk," she muttered.

"Brat," he responded.

Strangely, the shared animosity relaxed them both. Nothing had really changed, after all. They were still mortal enemies; it was just that, this time, one mortal enemy had her head on the other mortal enemy's lap. No biggie.

Usagi shut her eyes against the sunlight again and shifted. His thighs were hard, muscular beneath her head... _Stupid. Don't notice that now!_

"You're on my hair," she informed him.

He looked down from where he had been watching the children, doing his best to ignore her. "What?"

"I said, you're on my hair."

He looked down and noticed that he did, indeed, have several feet of golden hair trapped under his arm. He grabbed it (a little roughly, he had to admit) and rearranged it (shoved it was more like it) over his lap so it fell to the floor. He refused to think about how silky it felt. And somehow familiar...

"Good grief. Why on earth would anyone want so much hair?"

Her eyes flew open, only to squint shut when the sun hit them. Without conscious thought, Mamoru placed his hand at an angle above her head, blocking the light. She opened them again. "Why do you always have to insult my hair?! What, you run out of insults so then you have to revert back to the hair? Is it back-up material or something? I'll have you know a lot of guys like my hair!"

He scoffed at her. "Yeah, right. I can't imagine a single guy out there who could possibly like you, Odango Atama."

Usagi felt her entire body tense, amazed at how much that one had hurt. But she'd be damned if she let him see it. "And I can't imagine a girl who'd like you! Y-You cold-hearted Satan!"

And that one hit him dead center. She couldn't know that he'd wondered over the years if there was something wrong with him, when he pushed away any girl that showed interest in him because there were simply no feelings left in him to reciprocate.

They looked away from each other resolutely, keeping themselves occupied by watching the children continue their games. Each nursed their hurts in silence.

Several minutes later, Usagi dared to speak up. "Anyway, there is a boy who likes me," she lied. _No, not a lie...a hope_. "He's gorgeous, and sweet, and he's always there when I need him."

He shifted his attention back to her, still smarting over her previous comment. Her head was turned towards the children, and he could study her profile at his leisure. He could tell she expected him to answer in some way, not quite sure if it would be derogatory or not, but probably expecting it to be. He decided to surprise both of them.

"Yeah? I'm glad for you," he responded quietly, trying to picture in his mind the type of man that Tsukino Usagi would go for. He gave up. It was simply impossible picturing her with some teenage guy. He just drew a blank.

When he stumbled out of his thoughts, he found that she'd turned to look at him and was staring, openmouthed. "Wow," she breathed, "you said something nice."

He frowned, wondering what the hell he'd been thinking to actually encourage the girl. Now what would she do? Call him Satan again?

"Thank you," she said, effectively pole-axing him and leaving him staring. "And you?" she queried, genuinely curious.

He looked at her grimly, searching for a trap. All he could find was honest interest, so he acquiesced to his impulse. He'd always wanted to let someone know, anyway, how wondrous his dream-princess was. That she was a dream and nothing more, Usagi didn't have to know.

"Well," he began, smoothing back Usagi's hair without thought, "there is this one girl...She's gorgeous. The most beautiful girl I've ever seen. And she's so brave, and strong. Nothing can keep her down. And let me tell you, she doesn't have an easy life. But you can see just by looking into her eyes that there's joy in her, and that she can offer that happiness to so many others..." He trailed off, wondering to himself if he had been describing Sailor Moon or his Princess, and concluding that he'd described them both.

"Wow," Usagi breathed again. Well, wasn't Mamoru just full of surprises today? She was almost jealous of this girl that could inspire such love from cold Mamoru. After a few seconds of having Mamoru absently stroke her hair, she got tired of waiting for him to get down off Cloud 9 and answer her questions. She reached up and pulled on the lock of hair that fell over his brow, guiding his head down. When he was bent over at the waist and only a few inches away from her, she looked up at his wide, shocked gaze and whispered conspirationally: "So, do I know her?"

Mamoru felt his chest constrict, only to whoosh out in a combination of relief and disappointment when he figured she had not been intent on kissing him, after all. He couldn't help a rumble of laughter escape, which Usagi could feel vibrate against her head.

He straightened and sat back again, resuming his gentle exploration of Odango Atama's hair. Well, now he had to make it good. "I don't know. Maybe."

Usagi squealed and clapped her hands. "Really?! Like, does she go to my school? I could hook you two up, you know," though that idea, for some odd reason, didn't fit so well in her mind.

He enjoyed her enthusiasm, egging her on. "Maybe."

"Maybe?! Will you stop just saying 'maybe'?! Dish up the dirt! I bet I can guess who it is. Give me a clue as to what she looks like," she pleaded.

That one gave Mamoru pause. It was very disconcerting to suddenly realize that, frankly, he had the impression his dream princess and Sailor Moon would more closely resemble Usagi than anyone else he knew.

However, saying "she looks like you" would be highly misleading, so he went for the basics. "She has long blonde hair. Blue eyes. Maybe your age or a little older. Gorgeous."

Usagi's brow furrowed in thought. Okay, so...blonde, blue-eyed. Well, that did narrow it down quite a bit in Japan. Wow, that really did sound like Minako-chan, come to think of it. Realization dawned and she bolted up in disbelief, golden hair flying around her.

Usagi climbed over a startled Mamoru and grabbed his shirt with both hands. "No! Get outta here! Really?! I didn't even know you knew Minako-chan that well. Does she know?!" Although if she did, Usagi was going to have to kill her for keeping such prime gossip to herself.

Mamoru was suddenly confused to find Usagi seated on his lap, gripping him by the shirt. "What?! Who? Your friend? The blonde one? NO! Jeez, Odango, grow up."

Usagi let go of his shirt, disconcerted. "No? Well, but she's perfect! Just like you described! Hmm, let me see." She settled comfortably, going through her long list of friends for a match. Maybe Ayumi, but Ayumi's hair was more golden brown and, to be perfectly honest, she'd sure been hit with the ugly-stick...

"Eh-hem. Odango Atama. Have you suddenly grown so fond of me you can't stand to be separated from me?" Mamoru asked as he shifted her weight on his thighs.

"What are you talking about, Satan? You've been out in the sun too long," she said, casting a killing glance his way.

"Oh, really? Then why the hell are you cuddled up on my lap?" he asked, smug when he saw the shock of realization appear on her face.

"I am no-- Ewww! Honestly, Satan, I'm only fourteen and you must be, like…ancient!"

"What?!" he cried, insulted. "Hey, Odango, I'm only 17! And I'm not the one that dragged you on my lap. You climbed on it all by yourself!"

"Yeah, but I didn't mean it in any way, you dork. And anyway, you did say the girl you like is my age, right? Is that even legal?" she taunted, angry with herself because she had, after all, enjoyed sitting on his lap.

He was furious. Amazing how this girl made him go from hot to cold. It was maddening. "Shut up. It doesn't concern you. And how old is this mystery guy of yours, anyway?" he asked in his most insinuating voice.

The tone implied she was some rich, middle-aged, married man's mistress.

"Ooh! You. . . you dirty-minded JERK!" she felt tears sting her eyes at his opinion of her. "What kind of manners did your parents teach you?! And I bet you just made that girl up, because no girl in her sane mind would ever have _you_!"

That was a double hitter, and she didn't even know it. The mention of his late parents, which he couldn't even honor by remembering, drove him right over the edge. He raged at both insults because they were essentially true, and something inside him snapped. But even as he spoke he said it, he knew he was going too far. "What do you mean, your mystery man is 'always there when you need him'? Need him for what? In just what way is he 'there for you,' Odango? What has he been teaching you?"

She didn't know why she did it. Perhaps because she was so disappointed after seeing the kindness he kept checked inside. Or maybe because she'd almost started liking him, thought they could be friends. Maybe because he was defiling her every dream, turning every cherished thought she had of Tuxedo Mask dirty. Perhaps it had simply gotten too much, and she could no longer deal with the humiliation of last night along with his terribly unjust insults.

"In a way you'll never be, Satan! And you want to know what he's taught me, you bastard, I'll show you what he's taught me!"

She hauled back and punched Mamoru square in the jaw.

* * *

to be continued...

* * *

I can't believe that the "Ode to a Wet Bike Seat" spanned two chapters. Why didn't someone stop me?! 


	4. Chapter 4

Title: First Truths -- Chapter 4

By: Lilac Summers

Rated: PG

It just keeps on coming, doesn't it? I haven't updated anything this often in ages!

* * *

Chapter 4

It was hard to tell who was more shocked, Mamoru or Usagi. Usagi stared at her fist as though it were something alien, some foreign object placed at the end of her wrist where her real hand usually resided. Because surely, surely she had not just punched Chiba Mamoru in the face.

It took a few more seconds for her to realize that her hand hurt like hell.

"OWWW! Ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch." She danced around slightly on one foot, clutching her abused fist to her chest. Yet another point against Chiba: he had a head as hard as a rock. Probably to shield the mush he had for brains, she thought angrily. But no matter how insulting he had been, she had totally crossed the line. She had no right to hurt him. She had never been violent and now was completely ashamed at herself.

She finally stopped dancing long enough to stand still and ignore the pain in her right hand. Mustering the courage, she looked up at his face.

Mamoru had blanked out for a second. Yes, he'd been completely out of bounds saying such things to her. If he had heard another man say the same, he would have no respect for him. But, in all fairness, they'd been exchanging insults freely...and Odango Atama had just smashed him royally. It was a novel experience being socked squarely in the jaw by a girl who barely came up to his shoulder. It also brought back, however, disturbing memories of earlier times when older kids and even adults had thought that violence was an easy way to get a lesson through to him.

He slowly reached up and wiped at the small trickle of blood that had dribbled from the side of his mouth. The inside of his bottom lip was pulsing painfully from where it had been ground against his teeth. He touched it lightly with his tongue and could feel where the skin had split. She sure did pack a punch, he reflected offhand. Should he give in to the pulsing anger that was clawing at his insides, or compliment her right arm? Since he feared he was much closer to giving in to the former, he decided it would be much safer to get the heck away from her. Fast.

He spun on his heel and walked away, not glancing back. Usagi stared with dismay at his retreating back. Oh, no no no, this was no good. Better that he scream at her, call her all sorts of stupid names, than just draw that cold shield back over his face. Though she could honestly say that she didn't much like the guy, the prospect of his truly hating her sent her into a panic.

"Sata---I mean, Mamoru-san...wait!" Usagi trotted quickly after him, managing to run around in front of him, where she promptly clasped her hands together and bowed low at the waist. "I'm sorry! Sorry, sorry, sorry. I'm awful, I'm despicable. I really didn't mean it!"

She chanced a peek at him. He stood tall, aloof, unforgiving. His frame tensed and jaw clenched, she saw the glimmer of blood by his mouth and gasped. My god, she'd actually drawn blood! She could see it would take more than an apology to get through to him again.

"Alright." Straightening, she took a few brave steps forward and lifted her chin in invitation. The cold silver in his eyes made her quake, but fair was fair.

Mamoru clenched his fists, doing his utmost to ignore her yet failing miserably. What was with this girl?! Why was she taunting him when he had let it go so easily for her? "Go away," he said through clenched teeth.

"No, really, it's only fair. Though you WERE being particularly nasty, it wasn't right for me to hit you. Go for it." She stepped closer.

Mamoru decided she had simply lost her wits. That would explain why she had had the gall to hit him in the first place. He attempted to step around the crazy woman. She moved left and blocked his path. He moved the other way and she moved with him. Frustrated, he flung his hands outward and vented his anger at her. "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!"

Usagi frowned, thinking she had made that perfectly obvious. Well, maybe the man was slower than she thought. Enunciating slowly for his benefit, she said, "I give you permission to hit me back. Right in the jaw. Tit for tat." She raised that stubborn chin, to his incredulous gaze, one more time. Then she paused and added quickly, "Just don't knock any of my teeth out." She braced her feet and closed her eyes.

In seconds he felt all his anger, disgust, and pain drain out of him.

It was simply . . . gone. To be replaced with, amazingly enough, amusement. If he allowed himself, he could actually learn to enjoy this wacky girl who could send his feelings roiling from rage to laughter with her antics. Only IF he allowed himself.

He placed one blunt-edged finger on that small, bold chin of hers and edged it down to a more comfortable height. Her eyes fluttered open. "Huh?"

She found herself looking once more into his eyes and the transformation she saw in them totally befuddled her. They were warm now, a hazy shade of gray-blue like the mist during a summer rain. _Mist during a summer rain_ she thought dryly, _Usagi, that's pretty cheesy_. But she was sure she was right, as she'd witnessed firsthand how icy cold those eyes of his could become. Flustered, she could only wonder at the change. "Well, aren't you going to hit me?"

His finger dropped from her chin and his mouth edged upward slightly.

"Yeah, right. It'd probably kill you, runt that you are. And with my luck you'd come back to haunt me from the grave."

"And Satan returns," she muttered softly. "Oh, well then, you have missed your once-in-a-lifetime chance. Don't say I didn't offer to even the odds!" She shook her finger in his face, as if reprimanding him for not punching her. "Later, I don't want you whining about how I hit you."

He grabbed the offending finger and moved it away from where it dangerously hovered over his left eye. He glanced down at her small hand in his, the hand she had banged up when she'd used it to sledgehammer his mouth, and felt a curious sense of knowing click into place. He dismissed the déjà vu. "Don't give me that, Odango. You knew perfectly well that I'd never hurt you. I've yet to meet another person who is as unwary around me as you are. Most other girls have some sense in their heads."

Usagi took her finger back and pouted back at him, started to deny the accusation, but gave up. "So what if I did? It's not my fault you're a marshmallow at heart. Besides, there was still a chance that you might be mad enough to punch me, so the offer was still good. You're just upset because you couldn't take advantage of it."

Mamoru could only shake his head, highly entertained, as he began to walk away from her again. "Odango, I shudder to think that you have set to psychoanalyzing me. It's been, as usual, interesting talking to you. I hope it's at least another month before I have the pleasure again," he called over his shoulder.

Usagi stood, watching him walk away, equal parts laughter and annoyance in her eyes. That man...that man would be the death of her one of these days. Still, it'd been sweet of him to forgive her so easily. "Hey Chiba!!" she shouted out. He paused briefly at the edge of the park and turned his head back a little. "I AM sorry! And by the way, what does psychoanomalize mean? Did you insult me again?!"

Her only answer was his deep laughter, drifting back towards her.

"Well, did you?!! Hey, Satan, answer me!!"

* * *

She had all of half an hour more to enjoy her day off before the musical beeping of her communicator intruded. She grumbled softly and rummaged in her backpack until she found the annoying machine. Makoto's face awaited her at the other end.

"Don't tell me, let me guess...I'm thinking, attack at the school, right?"

Makoto's weary face failed to smile. "You've got it. But it's worse than that, Usagi. Much worse."

Usagi paused in the act of gathering her things and stared fearfully at the small screen. "How worse?"

"Worse as in we're-stuck-in-school worse. The instant the first screams sounded, all the teachers were instructed to lock their classroom doors and not let students out for any reason. Not even bathroom breaks. The idiots are all waiting for the Sailor Senshi to show, not knowing they're keeping us locked up in this damn school. We can't possibly get out and remain anonymous, Usagi-chan. I think...I think you're going to handle this on your own," Makoto's subdued voice faltered, eyes apologetic.

Usagi sunk to her knees in the soft grass. "Alone? What about Rei? She doesn't go to our school!"

Makoto nodded slightly. "But it's across town, Usagi-chan. You have to get here NOW. I hope Rei can make it in time to help." Makoto chewed on her bottom lip nervously, disappeared for an instant when another student obviously tried to see what she was doing, reappearing after a second to continue whispering worriedly. "Hurry, Usagi-chan. The youma's got a whole gym period trapped out in the courtyard."

Usagi was already running towards the nearest secluded area to transform. She would be able to be at the school in less than three minutes if she were in Senshi form. "I'm on my way, Mako-chan. Don't do anything to call attention to yourselves." She turned off the link and transformed, then ran as fast as she could towards the school.

* * *

In the classroom, Makoto shut off the link and sent a fervent prayer out to her Creator for Usagi's safety. She was sure that Ami and Minako, in their own classes, were doing the same. Turning, she joined all the other students at the windows that lined the classroom walls, waiting for Sailor Moon, one of her best friends, to save the day. It was what every student in that school was waiting for.

* * *

Not even the surging power of the Moon could stop Usagi's knees from knocking together. They were trembling when she began the transformation and they were trembling when she stopped, yet now they were clad in red boots. They shook all the way from the park to the rooftop adjoining the school and shook still as she looked over the campus.

She did not want to fight this thing alone. Sure, she'd fought youmas on her own before, but she had always known that backup was on its way. Even if the backup had arrived a smidgen late to be of much help, the knowledge that her fellow Senshi were available was able to see her through. But this was a whole new case. Rei was FAR across town, and Sailor Moon didn't have the luxury to wait.

What she needed was a plan, Sailor moon thought as she studied the scene below her. A female youma dressed in a slinky black gown was throwing diamond pins at her victims and sucking their energy. She'd chosen as her target the entire soccer team, and the students lolled listlessly to the ground as their life force was depleted.

Well, it seemed that the number one priority was to get her to stop draining the students. Sailor Moon prepared to make a speech and draw the youma's attention, thought better of it and immediately hurled her tiara at the monster, hoping she'd get it then and there and the fight would be over before it had begun. Novel concept, right?

Of course, she hadn't really expected it to be that easy, and it wasn't. Youmas were hard to catch off-guard. Especially when you had to scream out your attack at them. The discus flew at the youma's head with alarming speed, but the monster swirled with gracefully and narrowly avoided being decapitated. "Diamante!" she screeched.

_Oh well, speech it is_. Sailor Moon leapt down from her high perch off the roof and landed in the middle of the student-strewn courtyard just in time to catch her returning tiara in her right hand. She felt trapped, surrounded on all sides by the tall walls of the school. General movement caught her eyes and she stared, unbelieving, at the hundreds of students who peered out at her from behind the windows. They were, she was further daunted to realize, cheering at her appearance.

Her fear increased a hundredfold.

So many people, so many possibilities for casualties. One wrong move and the youma could blast a school wall. Thousands of thoughts flitted like quicksilver through Sailor Moon's brain. This time she had to be careful; she had to think. It all depended on her and she _hated_ it. She turned wary eyes to her adversary, dismayed to find that the elegant monster was simply waiting for her to do something.

So she did.

"School, though boring, is a place where students are supposed to feel safe! I will not allow you to wake up those who are trying to sleep through classes! I, Sailor Moon, will not forgive you. In the name of the Moon, I shall punish you!" She struck a pose and found comfort in the routine of it, then had it shattered when thunderous applause broke out from behind the school walls. _Do they think this is some game? Don't they realize I'm the only one here?_ She had the dizzying sense that perhaps this was all some dream she was performing in, that the applause behind her was canned, prerecorded from some TV sitcom. She stood frozen in place.

"Diamante!" screamed the banshee, letting lose hundreds of tiny, cutting diamond chips. Sailor Moon's knees buckled beneath her and she fell to the ground in time to avoid most of the damage, thankful the other students were already on the ground and that the ones that had yet to be drained had sought shelter at the farthest corner of the courtyard.

Diamante screamed in fury and decided to get rid of the nuisance by more direct means. She withdrew one diamond earring and it transformed into a wicked-looking blade. Sailor Moon scurried to her feet and stumbled backward, drawing the fiend away from the unconscious bodies of her classmates.

Diamante continued to slash in furious motions at Sailor Moon, crowding her, shadowing her movements so that she had no place to run, jump, duck, anything. Sailor Moon knew it was only a matter of time before Diamante managed to hurt her with the sword. Had the other Senshi been here, they would have been able to distract her long enough for her to use her own attack, but now she didn't have a second to even raise her Moon Wand, using it mainly for parrying purposes at the moment.

Dammit, and she'd just about healed from all the other nights, too.

Sailor Moon swung up harshly to keep the sword from slicing her head open, managed to block with a resounding clang from the Moon Wand, and kicked out fiercely at her opponent's shins. The demon fell to one knee, screaming piercingly, while Sailor Moon had time to bop her smartly on the head with the butt of her wand before jumping back substantially.

She had no time to catch her breath, no time to think. She had only a second to swing the Moon Wand up and point it at her attacker, and try to begi--

"Diamante!!!" The youma, knowing the pretty pink moon-shaped thingy aimed at her was NOT a good thing, panicked and threw her arsenal of weapons at the Senshi wielding it.

Sailor Moon knew she'd made a tactical error. She should have sought shelter before beginning the attack, for now she was wide open, backed into a corner, with a flurry of razor diamond chips and daggers coming her way. Caught in mid twirl as she was, she could only stare at oncoming doom and hope against hope that this was not Tuxedo Mask's day off.

She heard students all around her draw in shocked breaths, heard a few screams resounding from the school behind her, and prayed for a miracle.

A miracle in the form of a rose.

She got a miracle in the form of a cape.

It swirled around her, protecting her from the chips that flew around her in a flurry. That cape was connected to a very warm, male body that took her down to the ground and shielded her from the rest of the debris. The rose, which she was blocked from seeing, had already done its job and cut the path of several larger projectiles short.

Sailor Moon turned breathless lips towards her savior. "You're late," she wheezed.

He smiled, she imagined it reached his eyes behind the mask, and she smiled with him.

"Sorry. I was--" he couldn't very well tell her he'd been in the shower when he'd felt her sense of urgency, "--detained."

"Are you ready?" he asked softly. She nodded and he pulled away from her, extending his hand. She gripped it, felt the heat of his hand through the fabric of both their gloves, and tried not to blush like a schoolgirl. _Dammit, I **am** a schoolgirl!_

He hauled her up with little effort, steadying her when she wobbled. She gave him a confirming nod and he bounded towards Diamante. Her thigh protested where a new cut was making itself known, but she'd have to deal with it for now.

"Keep her busy," she called to Tuxedo Mask. She shouldn't have bothered for that was exactly what he was doing, throwing a multitude of sharp roses at the youma. It seemed so absurdly easy now that she wasn't being hounded by the monster. Sailor Moon rotated lightly on her feet and focused her energy into the wand, stumbled lightly when her thigh throbbed angrily, but steeled herself against it and sent the attack hurtling towards Diamante. Tuxedo Mask avoided the ensuing light display adroitly, returning to her side just as Sailor Moon decided to let her thigh have its way. She collapsed towards the ground.

To him, it seemed that one minute she was standing firmly by his side, and the next she was weaving towards the floor. Tuxedo Mask, acting on instinct, hefted her up into his arms before she touched the razor-decorated floor. He cursed long and fluently when he saw the cut on her leg.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize...are you alright?" he asked, feeling so out of ease since their last encounter. They had not parted on such amicable terms last time. It seemed every time he talked to her, she was wounded, or tired, or suffering. And every time he talked to her, she always ended back up in his arms.

Sailor Moon tried to force the heat rising to her face down, couldn't help but notice that the entire student body was ogling them through the windows, and busied herself patting at the cut with her skirt. "No worries. I'm fine."

His eyes darkened behind the mask. "I should have been here sooner. I'm sorry, I should have found you faster. Should have saved you faster."

He held her a little more tightly, though neither was aware of it.

Sailor Moon tilted her chin higher, sudden pride leaping into her bearing. "You didn't need to help me faster. I held up pretty well on my own," she said, and she realized she was right. She'd put up a pretty good fight all by herself. She couldn't help but preen a little, under the circumstances.

Tuxedo Mask felt that familiar surge of warmth begin in him once more, charmed by the sight of Sailor Moon's small chin raised proudly to him, much like Usagi's had been earlier.

Sailor Moon let her newfound sense of accomplishment fade into the background. There was something so...right, somehow, about that quirky grin of his. Right and yet misplaced, as if perhaps it was someone else's grin she had seen before. She wondered if he realized he was holding her in his arms with hundreds of student spectators surrounding him. She figured the teachers were loathe to end this little drama played out right before them, and she knew her classmates would rather die than miss seeing something juicy like this play out. The drained students sprawled around them in the courtyard were slowly coming to their senses, too.

_It's unreal. It has to be_. This was the kind of fantasy she dreamt up during math class. Tuxedo Mask and Sailor Moon saving the world for all to see. Then he'd take her in his arms--like so--and look deep into her eyes--like so--and kiss her mindless.

Sailor Moon continued looking up at him, praying he'd forget where they were and who they were, and just kiss her. But he seemed perfectly content to just stare at her, his face as close to hers as Mamoru's had been when he'd pillowed her head on his lap. And then, just as now, she'd almost wished that he'd kiss her... But that would have been outrageous! Chiba Mamoru, kissing HER?!

_No more outrageous than Tuxedo Mask, Usagi. No more outrageous_. Perhaps, but Tuxedo Mask still didn't know the girl behind disguise. And that thought, ultimately, gave her courage. _He'll never know who I am_.

He was so close it only took a fraction of movement to seal his lips with her own. She felt him start beneath her, heard the gleeful gasps of their audience behind her, and feared that if he pulled away from her she would die.

But he didn't pull away. He remained frozen, their lips against each other's still and unmoving for the longest moment she dared, and then she began to release him. But he didn't let her. His lips followed hers as she drew back, and no longer was the kiss a chaste touching of skin. Her lips parted under the pressure of his mouth and she thought that now there really was no doubt that she was dreaming. Nothing in the real world could feel this good. Then HIS lips parted and she could taste him as surely as he could taste her, and she revised her opinion. She wasn't dreaming, she was _dead_. Surely now she had to be in heaven.

They both forgot where they were, the audience, the time, the world.

Only the far-off sound of sirens intruded enough to clear the haze. They both startled forward, jarring their lips a little roughly. Sailor Moon felt Tuxedo Mask's mouth jolt lightly, as though he were flinching, and heard his hiss of pain seconds before they both pulled away.

Instantly she was on her own two feet. They refused to look at one another, and in the next moment applause and cheering so thunderous startled them so completely, they could only gaze around the yard in horror at the amount of witnesses. The next moment he was gone, a mere flash of black leaping from rooftop to rooftop. She vaulted up a second later in the opposite direction, not stopping until she was blocks away and safely ensconced behind a chimney.

She could not believe what had just happened. _She_ had kissed Tuxedo Mask. Tuxedo Mask had kissed _her_. It was like a mantra inside her head.

She could still taste him. She turned crab-red at the wayward thought, but couldn't contain herself from wetting her lower lip with her tongue in remembrance.

The slightly metallic taste of blood teased her tastebuds.

Baffled, Sailor Moon brought one gloved finger to her lips and inspected the subsequent red stain. Somehow she knew that it had come from his mouth...

"Oh my god."

* * *

to be continued...

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

Title: First Truths--Chapter 5

By: Lilac Summers

Rated: PG13 for mild language

It's gratifying to know this story is being enjoyed! I love hearing your opinions, brings back those memories of me slaving over the computer at all odd hours of the night...without pay...for no one's pleasure but my own and the few fans out there...

Man, what was I thinking?! ;) Just teasing.

_italics denote thought. usually._

* * *

Chapter 5

Tuxedo Mask leapt over the balcony railing, floundered and fell against the outside wall. He didn't care. Like a blind man, he fumbled to the point of frustration as he tried to open the patio doors. Just before he'd decided to smash a fist through the glass and get it over with, the doors slid open with ease. He dashed through, throwing off hat and mask to collapse on the couch, head cradled in his hands.

Oh god, what had he done?! _You kissed her, you fool!!_ his mind screamed at him repeatedly. It had felt so good...so right... _That's not the point!_ But if he could do it again..._NO! Don't go there!_

He slumped back, running weary fingers through tousled black hair. He couldn't change what had happened. He'd kissed her. No, she'd kissed him first, and that thought sent more fingers of overjoyed excitement running down his nerve endings. God, Sailor Moon had kissed _him_! Chiba Mamoru, cold upperclassman. _And you should have left it at that, you idiot!_ But he couldn't help it. When he'd felt her lips on his, warm and soft, he had simply lost it. Shocked to the core the first few seconds, he had almost gone into a panic when she began to pull away. His whole body had protested at the thought of parting, and he'd given in. He'd chased her mouth as if his salvation depended on it, and had not let the kiss stay innocent. It had been a hot meeting of open mouths...

"Aaargh!" He jumped up from the couch and proceeded to pace the length of his living room, his gait unusually disjointed, filled with nervous energy. If he had simply let it go at that first kiss he would have no problems. Sure, so Sailor Moon would probably be a little embarrassed next time they met, and he'd always wonder what it would have been like to really kiss her. But _god_, the not knowing would have been easier to handle than the knowledge that he would never be able to kiss her again. _After all, you can't miss what you've never had, right?_ He had highly compromised his mission to find the crystal, to find his princess.

And, of course, now came the guilt. As ridiculous as it was, he felt as though he were being unfaithful to his dream princess. But worse yet was the knowledge that, if in the same position, he would not hesitate to kiss Sailor Moon again.

_Weak. You are so weak._

* * *

For long moments, Sailor Moon's mind was a rush of conflicting thoughts and emotions. _It's ridiculous. You've gone insane, girl. No way is __Chiba, Satan himself, Tuxedo Mask._ But there it was, the proof that stained her glove, that incriminating drop of blood.

_So what?! He'd just been in a battle! Think about it, there could __have been a hundred chances for blood to splatter his face. For all you __know, that **is** your blood._ The argument held logic, but something in her gut warned her not to dismiss her first instinct so lightly. She was scared to think that her Tuxedo Mask, who she thought could do no wrong, was actually the flawed and utterly infuriating Mamoru she knew not-so-well.

And the scariest part was, she wouldn't have been disappointed if he had been.

Maybe that's what she wanted. Maybe that's why her mind had jumped so easily, so _happily_, to that conclusion.

Sailor Moon jumped down from her perch on the roof, found a convenient alley, and dropped her transformation. It was getting late and she had to go home. Thinking about this would only drive her insane. _I'm desperate. That's what it is. I am just sick of guessing who Tuxedo Mask is._

That had to be it. She was obviously under a lot of stress.

Seriously, she couldn't really believe that she had the hots for Chiba. Usagi scoffed quietly at herself. NO, of course not. So he could be nice, but he was generally a big pain. And--and so what if Tuxedo Mask WAS Chiba Mamoru?! Mamoru was even MORE unlikely to feel anything for her than Tuxedo Mask was...

Usagi stopped in mid-step, breath sounding unnaturally sharp in her ears. _That's right. Mamoru would never fall for me._

She was jostled rudely as a group of teenagers, newly released from school, pushed her out of their path. She resumed her walk more slowly, blinking back foolish tears that had sprung up behind her eyes. _The sun...it's just the sun is so bright, that's all._

"And then--and then they KISSED! Right there, in front of the entire school. It was all steamy and dramatic, like those movies!"

Usagi almost collided with a light post as the teenagers' conversation finally registered. She turned flamingo pink and tried to hurry by, head down.

"Ooh, those two are so romantic. I KNEW there was something there. Y'know, the news is never says so, but it's so obvious..."

Usagi was running now, from the talk and from her embarrassment. What did Tuxedo Mask think of her now? What was going to happen next?

The next realization hit her like a brick wall. _My god, what am I going to tell the girls?!_

That one sent her scurrying for home and the relative safety of her own room.

* * *

The next day was a Saturday. Usually, Usagi enjoyed Saturdays with a glee unparalleled. Today, though, found a haggard Usagi lagging pathetically around the mall. She would have preferred to remain at home were it not for the fact that she was hiding from the other Senshi, unprepared to give explanations for Friday's spectacle. Now all she could do was move listlessly from one air-conditioned store to another. Whatever restorative powers her day off had performed were lost under the influence of a sleepless night. That, and the one driving thought she could not get out of her head. _You know how to find out if HE is Tuxedo Mask..._

She slumped by yet another frightfully expensive clothing store. Not even the ice-cream booth caught her attention. The shoe store, the toy store, the comic store, all passed by without a glance from her. She was making her way to the indoor coffee shop, hoping the sight of sweets would perk her up where the ice-cream vendor had failed. She ignored a few more storefronts on the way and the bookstore might have suffered the same fate were it not for the display of daily newspapers stacked outside. One caught her eye.

Boy, did it ever.

Usagi snatched a copy, threw her money at a grumpy clerk, and brought the paper, trembling, into focus. There, on the front page, displayed for the world to see, was a full-length color photograph of Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Mask kissing passionately in the middle of the schoolyard.

Usagi gave a little strangled noise of shock and disbelief and sunk into the nearest booth, not caring that it was already occupied. Frantically she read the print, gnashing her teeth when she found that the picture had been taken by some enterprising student with a camera, who'd been watching through the window. _When I get my hands on him..._ She placed away that tidbit for later, scanning the article as it detailed the history of the Senshi, pondered over the mystery of the Tuxedo Mask, and speculated about his and Sailor Moon's relationship. Though the title of the article exclaimed that "Youma Attacks Local Junior High; Sailor Moon Saves the Day," it was clear that the piece was nothing more than glorified gossip.

"I should have known you'd be into that kind of gunk," came the acerbic voice behind the paper. "And while you're at it, please, take a seat."

Usagi jumped in her chair, crumpling the newspaper edges between sweaty palms, and hung her head in dismay. Of course! If she had ever doubted it before, she knew now: God had to be a guy. Slowly, slowly she brought down the concealing pages of the paper, peering over the edge at the face that had caused her to toss and turn the night away.

"Satan." It was a statement with no inflection, not betraying that her heart was pounding a drum cadence against her ribs. "If I had seen you sitting here, I wouldn't have sat down, too."

Mamoru set down his coffee cup gently as he surveyed the harried girl in front of him. "You know, sooner or later you're going to have to stop calling me that."

Usagi was busily searching his features, cataloguing his looks and comparing them to what she had seen of Tuxedo Mask's. What she noticed made her hands quake. She abruptly set down the paper and hid her hands beneath the table. _Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod...I have to be mistaken._

Desperately she fell back on the barbed play that flowed so easily between them. "Yeah, I'll stop calling you Satan. Sooner or later. Hold your breath." To her chagrin, she found herself staring at his lips.

Mamoru wiped at his mouth with a napkin, wondering if he'd left traces of coffee around the edges after he saw her staring. Her eyes flickered up to meet his. He found that whatever he was going to say died on his tongue. To marshal his resources, he nodded his head at the newspaper between them.

"So, I take it that happened at your school?"

Usagi searched his words for any tone of surprise, embarrassment, anything that could betray that he had been involved with the fight. She found nothing more than the normal droll amusement. She nodded carefully, studying his eyes before she spoke. "Yeah," she swallowed hastily, praying for courage, "I--I heard it was a pretty steamy kiss. Tongue and all that." Good GOD! Did she actually SAY that?!!! She wanted to melt into the floor and die.

Mamoru was unaware that Usagi was thinking about how comforting it would be to sink through the cracks in the linoleum. In fact, if the description of the kiss rang any bells, he didn't show it. One black eyebrow arched upward as he, in his usual irritating manner, laughed at her silently. "Oh, tongue and all that, huh?" he teased at her obvious discomfort. "How would you know?"

Usagi almost swallowed the tongue in question. "H-How?! How--Well, I heard so!"

That laconic brow stayed up. "Really? Do you believe everything you hear, Odango Atama?"

Usagi caught herself right before she could jump up and announce, "It

was so! I should know!!" She could only stammer and protest. "W-well, there's a picture, see?"

They both leaned in to inspect the picture, zooming in on the blurry tangle of Tuxedo's and Moon's mouths. Usagi squinted and was gratified to see that, indeed, it DID look like a pretty steamy kiss. Completely forgetting her true involvement in the scenario, she pointed at the picture triumphantly. "See! It's so OBVIOUS!"

She looked up, he looked up, and there they were. Scant inches away from each other. Usagi stared at his lips again. No cuts.

Mamoru was also perusing Odango's lips. He wanted them. _JEEZ! Mamoru, what is WRONG with you!?_ He jumped back in his seat.

"I was joking, Odango. You don't have to convince me, you know."

Usagi blinked, dazed. Then she wanted to smack herself repeatedly against the table. _Of course you don't have to convince him, doofus! HE should know if there was tongue or not! YOU ARE TRYING TO FIND OUT!_ God, she wanted to shake him. She wanted to take him by the throat and shake him, screaming all the while, "Just tell me if you're Tuxedo Mask, dammit! TELL MEEEE!!"

Mamoru surveyed the picture once more. He hadn't been surprised when Odango had showed it to him, of course. Why, he had finished reading his very own copy just minutes before. He'd almost scalded himself with his first cup of coffee, hands unsteady as he read the article, system rushing from that first bout of caffeine that was supposed to get his system started after his sleepless night. He'd read the article, the many eyewitness accounts, then re-read it, and read it again. And, each time, he'd relived that blissful experience and berated himself all the same.

Just seconds ago, he had had the distinct feeling that he could reenact the scene with the girl sitting in front of him and that suddenly made Mamoru very worried about his immortal soul. _Good grief, THREE girls?! You can't possibly have the hots for THREE girls, and one of them Odango, no less! Since when are you so fickle?_ _Four months ago you couldn't find a single girl to catch your eye, and now you want a princess, a superhero, and student!?_

Mamoru looked at his coffee cup dubiously; perhaps his interest in Odango was due to an overdose of caffeine. He'd never been much of a coffee drinker until the role of Tuxedo Mask began to take up most of his nights.

Usagi had taken advantage of the few seconds of silence to regain her composure. Mamoru emerged from his silent chastisement to find her studying him somberly. "Why do you look so serious, Odango?"

She remained still for a moment yet, then slowly reached across the table and touched her fingertip to his lower lip. She inspected the seam of his lips, was gratified when his lips parted on a silent breath of air, and dipped her finger inside to check for a cut. She found it.

"Jesus!" Mamoru gasped out, jerking away from her touch as if she'd burned him. Usagi's hand fell to the table. His eyes had darkened into near-black. She thought she could drown in them if she let herself.

Mamoru was having difficulty breathing. He'd been mesmerized. First curious at her objective, second shocked at her touch, then mesmerized by her gentle caress. The only thing that had saved his sanity was the painful prodding of the sore abrasion on the inside of his bottom lip. Now he could only rely on disbelief to get him through the array of uncomfortable feelings he was undergoing.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

Usagi was asking herself the same question. What had she been trying to prove? So WHAT if he had a cut on his lips? She KNEW he had one! The one whom she had to find a matching one on was Tuxedo Mask. What was wrong with her! _It's him_, she thought somewhat desperately, _it's his fault I'm acting like an idiot. How the heck am I supposed to figure this out?_ But she already had an answer to that, an answer she refused to listen to.

"I-I just wanted to see if you were still hurt," she supplied lamely.

"Well, damn it! Don't you think you could have just asked me?!" he demanded, feeling the heat barely start to dissipate from the general area of his lips. "God, first it's talking about French kissing, then it's sticking your fingers into guys' mouths!" _Not that you protested...But then again, what guy would?_ He was slightly alarmed at his own thought. The picture of Odango treating other guys so... sensually sent cold needles of anger down his spine. "I said it yesterday and I'll say it again, what has that boy you like been teaching you?! You're too young to go around doing stuff like that!" _Hypocrite._

Usagi flushed angrily. "Nothing, you big dope! He taught me noth--" Lips, soft and hard all at once, pressed urgently against her own. The gasps of her fellow classmates filling the air behind her and her own heartbeat resounding painfully within her. The way he tasted of semisweet chocolate...If that wasn't a learning experience, she didn't know what was. Her protests died a sudden death and she could only look at Mamoru helplessly, shrugging her shoulders.

Mamoru's eyes widened at the telling gesture and he stopped blotting his lower lip with his napkin. It fell, unnoticed, to the table. If his eyes had darkened before, now they turned opaque. He looked at her confused, downcast face and gentled his voice. "So, that's the way it is, huh? Is that what this is about? You wanted to stop by and tell me all about your new boyfriend?"

She forced herself to return his gaze, trying to communicate to him her questions, her demands. _Don't you know?! Is it you?!!_ But, how could two people who looked so alike act so differently? And--and did they _really_ act differently? Could it be simply that there were facets to one she had only seen in the other? Because sometimes there was this tender edge to Mamoru's voice... _You know how to find out..._

But if it wasn't him?! God, what a humiliation that would be!

"Hmm. Well, I suggest you be careful, Odango Atama. No matter what anyone tells you, boys really _are_ after only one thing. Although I must say I'm surprised that you caught yourself a guy all by yourself. Maybe I should be warning the guy off instead, and not you." Mamoru took another gulp of hot coffee, telling himself fervently that he didn't care about Odango's love life. Really, why _should _he care?

Usagi's head snapped up. There it was again, the customary sharp humor, the sarcastic grin and the sly amusement lurking in his eyes. At this moment, Mamoru had less of chance of being Tuxedo Mask than Umino did.

But if she wanted to know for sure, one way to settle it once and for all...

_Well, you've known all along. All you have to do is kiss the guy._

* * *

to be continued...

* * *

A little note about all the internal dailogue going on in this story (i.e. the sentences in italics). As I was going through editing, I started to put all thoughts in the same perspective, and switch the few that were in first person out. But then I really thought about it and realized, it may be my multiple personalities talking, but I really _do_ switch perspectives when I'm thinking. Sometimes I'm talking AT myself, sometimes TO myself. So call me weird, but I left it in different perspectives because, really, don't we all have more than one voice inside ourselves? No? No? Anyone? 


	6. Chapter 6

First Truths

by Lilac Summers

Little delay in updating due to holiday revelry. Hope you enjoy this one.

_italics denote thoughts. usually._

* * *

chapter 5 recap:

"Hmm. Well, I suggest you be careful, Odango Atama. No matter what anyone tells you, boys really _are_ after only one thing. Although I must say I'm surprised that you caught yourself a guy all by yourself. Maybe I should be warning the guy off instead, and not you." Mamoru took another gulp of hot coffee, telling himself fervently that he didn't care about Odango's love life. Really, why _should _he care?

Usagi's head snapped up. There it was again, the customary sharp humor, the sarcastic grin and the sly amusement lurking in his eyes. At this moment, Mamoru had less of chance of being Tuxedo Mask than Umino did.

But if she wanted to know for sure, one way to settle it once and for all...

_Well, you've known all along. All you have to do is kiss the guy._

* * *

Chapter 6

Mamoru watched Usagi's face, his inscrutable mask in place, wondering how she would respond. Granted, as far as insults went, this one was more tame than the barrage they had been exchanging lately. The past two days had been filled with words that seemed to hit the mark on both targets each time, leaving one to reel and try to rally a better defense.

But she said nothing in return, only staring back at him with that same helpless, perplexed look in her eyes. He felt as though she were waiting for him to do something, say something.

"Well?" he asked, too flustered to try and guess any longer, "What?! Aren't you going to insult me back? What is wrong with you today, Odango?!"

_God, if only you knew_. "I-I just don't feel like putting up with you today, okay?" she said, for want of anything better to say. She knew the words were wrong the minute she uttered them. That couldn't be her voice, all wavery and unsure and...and pathetic. It sounded like she was whining.

Mamoru seized the opportunity as if it were the last glass of water in the desert. Finally, something that would put them back on the ground on which they belonged. No more of this staring at her lips, jolting at her touch. He felt almost giddy at the relief and then frowned. No, Chiba Mamoru could not possibly ever feel anything so flighty as giddy. Why on earth should Odango Atama have that power over him? Well, quite simply she couldn't possibly. Therefore, he was not giddy.

"Odango Atama, maybe you should have thought of that before you sat down at my table. Hmmm, if I didn't know any better, I would think that you suddenly couldn't get enough of me." He strove to grin infuriatingly at her, sure she would go into a tantrum at the mere idea of what he had proposed.

To his dismay, her reaction was exactly the opposite. The color bled from her face all at once and her gaze turned all the more searching. _What?! What did I do wrong?!_

Usagi felt her lungs constrict painfully, felt the blood leave her face. Lord, if he knew what thoughts were running through her head, he might just realize how true that statement was. No doubt he'd head for the hills if he knew that she was a hair's breadth away from marshaling all her courage and just doing it. Of course, she knew she was just scaring him witless as it was. She wasn't acting as he generally saw her. She doubted he believed there might be a single serious thought in her head. After all, he thought she was a mindless, uncoordinated, carefree teenage girl. _Come on, how is he going to take you seriously as anything other than Sailor Moon?_ The Usagi he knew did not stop and study people carefully, weigh her words and plan a course of action. The Usagi he knew reacted first and thought later, if at all.

"Yeah," she managed to croak out, "I haven't sold my soul to the devil just yet, Satan. And that is the only way I wouldn't be able to get enough of you." Usagi pasted on a wide smile and stuck her tongue out at him.

Big mistake. His eyes zoomed in on that fast, little pink tongue and his insides danced a mad jig. _This is wrong...this is all wrong. Why can she do this to me?_ But more importantly, why hadn't he noticed before that she could do this to him? Were their meetings so brief that the pleasure became buried under the constant quips about grades or flying shoes? Perhaps that soul-searing kiss Sailor Moon had bestowed upon him had shaken loose some dormant hormones. He didn't want to believe he was so shallow, but how else could he suddenly find himself falling for three girls at once? _A princess, a superhero, a student--You don't ask for much, do you Mamoru?_

He was doing it again. He was staring at her with a singlemindedness that was scary. And his eyes had suddenly gone so dark again, so mysterious and deep and...sexy. They were hot, those eyes of his. She wanted to turn around and check to see if some good-looking girl had walked by behind her, causing Mamoru's usually ice-blue eyes to turn so deliciously navy. Then she wanted to strangle said girl.

_This is it, I'm tired of waiting. Tired of pretending. Who cares what he thinks of me. Right now--right now...I want him to look at ME that way. I want him to kiss **me**. I want to kiss **him**._ She placed her palms abruptly on the table, leaning over and easily covering the inconsequential width between them. She refused to look at his face, refused to see the amusement, puzzlement, or--worse--revulsion he might be feeling as it finally registered what she was going to do. Her world closed in, much as it had in the school, on the curve of his lips, parted slightly as he drew in air.

If he was Tuxedo Mask, then she would know. If he wasn't...then her problems would only be that much greater. Because she knew, with a certainty, that after this kiss she would never be able to turn back. She would never be able to deny that she just might be falling in love with Chiba Mamor--

"Ohmygod!" **--swoosh!--**

Mamoru blinked. That was all it had taken. He blinked and he'd woken up from whatever daydream he must have been weaving because suddenly--suddenly Usagi had disappeared right before his eyes. _Yes,_ he mused dazedly, _I must have been dreaming because I could have sworn that she was leaning forward, ready to kiss me._

Of course, that would mean that he was going quite stark, raving mad.

That would mean that he had been having a conversation with no one for the past ten minutes. That would mean that the newspaper in front of him had appeared out of thin air. And that would mean that the warm body pressed up against his leg was purely imaginary.

He was shocked still once more, his brain trying to furiously figure out just what the HELL had happened, his heart interrupting at odd intervals to scream in his ear that **"YES! USAGI IS UNDER THE TABLE!"** and, consequently, his brain trying to fight off all the somewhat embarrassing images that brought to mind.

All in all, it was quite understandable that he didn't hear his name the first few times it was called.

"MAMORU-SAN!"

Mamoru sat upright hastily, heard a muffled "ow" from under the table, and flushed to the very roots of his hair. "H-hai! Gomen, Rei, I didn't hear you."

Rei was standing over his table, foot tapping a staccato beat impatiently as she had called his name various times. Makoto, Ami, and Minako rallied behind her, casting odd glances his way. It was unusual to find Mamoru flustered. Although none could claim knowing him very well, from the many times they had seen him and Usagi cross swords, he had seemed to be coolly collected in the face of Usagi's rage.

"Yes, well, we were just wondering if you've seen Usagi around anywhere. Her mom told us we could find her at the mall," explained Rei, examining his table. Her eyes immediately fell upon the open newspaper.

"Actually, I know exactly where she is. And maybe you girls can explain to me WHY she is where she is," drawled Mamoru, sufficiently recovered from his shock.

Four pairs of feminine eyes turned to him. "Well?" queried Makoto.

"She is currently under the t---yeow!" Usagi had ruthlessly dug her elbow into his shin. She then proceeded to methodically pound on his knee with her knuckles. He grunted in pain, witnessed the four girls turn to look at him as though he were insane, and muffled the subsequent curses that threatened to spill forth as Usagi decided to use his ankle as a scratch post.

"Excuse me, Mamoru-san," Ami interjected, stepping forward and squeezing the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger. "Did you just say she is at the Tyeow? Just where IS the Tyeow?"

Mamoru gripped his coffee cup tightly, promising himself he'd get to kill Odango Atama later. He did NOT enjoy sounding like an idiot. "I-I don't quite know. Odango Atama," and here Usagi thanked him for the endearment by pinching his calf as hard as she could, "just mumbled something about this new restaurant they were opening and left. I thought she said it was called the 'Tyeow'."

Though a paltry excuse, the girls seemed inclined to believe him. And why wouldn't they? What reason would he have to lie? What reason, indeed. In fact, they seemed much more interested in Odango's forgotten newspaper than in anything he had to say.

"Thanks, Mamoru-san." Rei's hand itched to grab the paper that had caught her attention whole-heartedly. "Er, do you mind if we borrow your newspaper?"

"Go right ahead." _Anything so I can finally murder your friend in peace._

"Thanks again." Rei snatched the paper in a thrice and the girls were off, crowded around the paper as they walked.

"Well, good grief! Guess you guys weren't lying! Dear heavens, check **that** out. The little brat beat me to him," he heard Rei exclaim as they walked off, to the chorus of the other girls' laughter. He shook his head and began to gently extricate his leg from Odango's grasp.

"Are you quite satisfied? Could you now tell me what the hell is going on, right before I beat you senseless?"

He peered under the table, saw two huge, blue eyes peering back at him from the darkness beneath, and almost had the urge to laugh at the ludicrousness of it all. Almost.

Usagi was still dangerously close to hyperventilating. It had been such a close call! If she hadn't glanced over Mamoru's shoulder right before trying to k..k...kiss him, the girls would have caught her in a very compromising position. She would have had to tell them everything. Usagi knew she would not be able to confess her suspicions about Tuxedo Mask's identity, nor her growing feelings for both men. _If they **are** two men..._

Usagi plucked at the fabric of Mamoru's slacks in nervous reflex, unaware that the small movement was driving Mamoru to distraction. "I didn't want them to see me. I've been hiding from them all day."

Mamoru, figuring he couldn't take much more of her fidgeting, stilled her hand by trapping it beneath his own. Her hand rested warmly over his knee, smooth under the touch of his palm. He wondered if that had been a good idea, after all. "Why are you hiding from them?" he asked gently.

Imploring blue eyes looked up uncertainly. "I-I 'd rather not talk about it yet."

Mamoru could not think of a single thing that could possibly put such a look of abject misery on Odango's face. Some dark, jealous corner of his brain jeered that it had to be something totally trivial, like school gossip or such other fluff. After all, how many problems could a middle-school girl have? She had a loving family, good friends, no worries, no cares...

"I'm sure that whatever fight you guys got into, it'll be okay," he assured her, not quite able to mask the condescending tone to his voice.

Her pout turned into a scowl upon hearing that telltale edge. She abruptly ripped her hand out from beneath his. "Oh, thanks. Good to know you're so sympathetic."

Mamoru cringed inwardly. It was unfair of him to pass judgment so quickly. Still, he had become rather jaded after his own lonely childhood; it was hard to let go of the old bitterness at times. "I'm sorry," he murmured, lost to the fact that, for all intents and purposes, it seemed as though he were apologizing to his lap. The conversation, notwithstanding the ridiculous scenario, had suddenly turned serious.

Everything had been getting progressively worse, thought Usagi. Nothing had gone right today. She had lost the nerve to try to kiss him again, could hardly do so in her ignoble position even if she wanted to. Once more she was hurting from his preconceived ideas about her. Her friends were out to interrogate her. And should he ever remember that she had been about to kiss him, she would just expire right then and ther-

"Odango...erm...correct me if I'm wrong, but where you just about to kiss me when the girls walked by?"

Usagi's forehead dropped with unerring precision to smack against the metal support of the table. Once, twice, before a large male hand reached under the table and kept her from repeating the process. Mamoru peered under the table, scrutinizing her face for answers. Usagi closed her eyes tightly lest he see too much and lied for all she was worth. "No, of course not! You are most definitely becoming deranged, Satan!"

Mamoru's hand stilled on her face and withdrew. "Of course not. Then what were you doing?"

Usagi giggled blithely and slapped his knee playfully, "Well, duh! I was trying to look over your shoulder!"

"Of course." It seemed to be the only thing he could say. The weight of his disappointment seemed disproportionately huge. _But...but you COULDN'T have been wrong! Surely you don't believe her!_ But what else could he believe? That she was as attracted to him as he had discovered he was to her? Unlikely.

He rested his head in his hands, a posture he seemed to have to resort to much too often since he had met this Odango Atama. He was distantly aware of her efforts to crawl out from beneath the table. After a number of thwarted attempts, he reached towards her.

She scurried away to the far corner like a frightened animal. The gesture angered him immensely. "Dammit, it's not like I'm trying to hurt you! I'm trying to help you out!"

She peered at him from her safe niche, her heart softening as she realized she had managed to hurt his feelings. "I didn't think that you were going to hurt me," she informed him softly.

She had wanted to keep as much distance between them as possible, actually, but now it seemed that that option had been taken away from her. And anyway, why should she be nervous? She had already decided she had played the role of seductress enough. She would not try to kiss him. Too much of her pride was at stake. If he rejected her, she'd be crushed. She'd have to find another way to find out if Chiba Mamoru and Tuxedo Mask were one and the same.

Tentatively she reached for his proffered hand.

Her palm was settling comfortably, warmly into his when he asked her quietly, gentle amusement lacing his voice, "Are you ready?"

She was hurled back into memory, of her at the school ground, covered safely by his body. How he'd offered her his hand and it had been so warm, so warm against hers, then that wry question in a deep baritone: "Are you ready?" It clicked, unquestionably, into place. How foolish of her to think there was only one way to recognize her savior. How naïve to base so much on the physical. The voice, the touch, the gaze were the same as the battlefield at the school.

She froze in place, eyes flying to his as that final rush of recognition settled in, part of her psyche suddenly whole.

_How foolish..._her mind echoed back to her. _How foolish to think that you would be the only one to recognize the signs._

His eyes had become alarmingly unfocused, his grip tight as iron. In an instant those azure eyes were suddenly on her again, piercing beneath her skin and reading all her knowledge.

"Are you ready..." he repeated slowly, tightening his hold on her hand even more as she desperately tried to pull away. He recalled a demure Sailor Moon, looking up at him as he surrounded them in his cape. And here she was, whatever magic that shielded her identity as Sailor Moon doing a poor job of disguising those shocked blue eyes looking up at his, the warmth of her hand and the surety of her grip, all just like the day before. He felt like an idiot, such an idiot for not realizing sooner. And he couldn't help but wonder if, the entire time, he had simply been playing into her hands.

His face and voice grim, he pinned her to the spot with a look and she stopped struggling. "I don't know if you are ready, but I sure as hell am."

He hauled her up from underneath the table.

* * *

to be continued... 


	7. Chapter 7

Title: First Truths--chapter 7

Author: Lilac Summers

Chapter seven here! I hope you guys enjoy it!! Thanks to all who've taken the time to give me your thoughts.

Sap alert, by the by.

* * *

Chapter 7

Mamoru's mind was a tangle of thoughts. Had she known? Did she know? How could this be? How could Odango Atama, of all people, be Sailor Moon? It just blew all his beliefs about her out of the water. It seemed singularly impossible that this infuriating, silly girl was the same warrior with so much sadness in her eyes.

And had she been playing him all along? Had she known he was Tuxedo Mask? His brain jeered that she must have found out, somehow, in order to have suddenly started treating him so differently. Suddenly her odd behavior of today had found an explanation.

He gripped her arm firmly and pulled her from the booth, deaf to her protests and sputtering. Right now, he wanted answers, and she was going to give them to him.

"Satan! What the heck do you think you are doing?! Let go!!" Usagi twisted and squirmed, panic rising up in waves. However warm she might have though his eyes could be, they were cold and ruthless now. He seemed intent on battle and she was very sure that she would lose. Why she would have to defend herself, she didn't know. _Why is he so angry?_ _What's wrong with him?! Is he so disappointed to realize that **I'm** Sailor Moon? _The fight in her crumpled at the thought. Was it that bad? She had been so busy trying to untangle the myriad feelings surging through her when she found out Mamoru might be Tuxedo Mask, she hadn't stopped to wonder what his reaction would be if he found out her secret, likewise.

She stumbled after him as he dragged her from the eating court, past booths and tables, looking for a more secluded area. She looked around desperately, wishing she had let the girls find her at the food court. She would much rather answer their questions than Mamoru's. No--Tuxedo Mask's. She shut her eyes tightly and reeled a bit from that. _He IS Tuxedo Mask! Oh my god... _

"Excuse me, miss. Do you need some assistance?"

Usagi's eyes flew open as Mamoru ground to a halt and brought her struggling feet to a stop beside him. Her gaze alighted on an earnest young man, around Mamoru's age, who was looking at Mamoru's grip on her arm suspiciously.

"W-what?" she squeaked.

"Do you need help?" he repeated politely. With a start, Usagi realized how the situation must look to him. Her face was flushed and strained, eyes unhappy, body struggling as Mamoru pulled her along. She fidgeted nervously, not sure if she should take this opportunity-- which was surely offered from the very heavens above-- or just face the lion now and get it over with.

She looked from Mamoru's closed, forbidding countenance to the stranger's worried face. She weighed her options. Mamoru's hand tightened around her wrist in warning and she fought down a shiver. His eyes promised bloody murder if she dared...

"Yes," she rushed, before she could change her mind. "Yes, I would most definitely appreciate some help." The irony to need saving from her savior!

The man's eyes hardened and he stepped forward threateningly. He wasn't as tall or built as Mamoru, but he seemed undaunted. "Now, see here. It's obvious the girl doesn't want to go with you. Why don't you let her go?"

Mamoru was counting slowly to one hundred, knowing it wasn't this man's fault for interfering. He would have done the same thing if he had thought some young woman was being manhandled. However, the poor idiot had no clue that this "young woman" could probably moondust both of them before they could even blink, if she so chose. And, he reasoned, he had no idea that Odango had been making him jump through hoops all morning.

Mamoru took a deep, calming breath. "It's not what you think," he said reasonably. "She---she stole my wallet."

Usagi and the mystery man gasped in unison. The man looked highly doubtful as he studied the petite blonde and the tall, dark-haired man. He had a hunch that this man wouldn't let ANYONE steal something that belonged to him.

"L-look, I don't know what's going on, but I don't think that you should--"

Usagi was seething. Stealing his wallet?! Yeah, right! Now she was supposed to be thief?! The nerve! Well, if that's how he wanted it... She drove her foot into his instep with all the strength she had, bopped him on the head much like she'd done to Diamante the day before, and took off running before her savior's bemused gaze.

"Thanks!" she called back breezily as she disappeared around a corner.

The man only had time to blink before a growling Mamoru pushed past him and raced after the girl. He blinked again, shook his head, and decided to forget the whole matter. He had no doubt now that the blonde was more than capable of taking care of herself.

* * *

Usagi ran faster than all her late-for-school dashes combined. Her feet literally flew over the polished flooring of the mall, sliding around corners and keeping precarious balance as she zagged between shoppers. She was sure that Mamoru, had he been furious before, would now be in a rage after that little spectacle. The last thing she wanted was to be caught now.

She heard his rapid footsteps behind her and turned up the speed another notch. Her breath was starting to become ragged; she didn't know how much longer she could keep it up. Without paying much attention to where she was going, she ran headlong down one more corridor, skidding to halt only when she realized the exit was cut off by renovations. She cursed with a fluency that would have earned her a scandalized lecture from Luna, cast one desperate glance behind her to see Mamoru closing in fast, and dove for the one sanctuary she could find:

Victoria's Secret, the lingerie store.

Instantly she was surrounded by lacy concoctions of silk, daringly cut nightwear, bras, and panties in a rainbow of colors and textures. It was a woman's domain, a place men avoided like the plague. The few men forced inside by wives or girlfriends always stood, highly uncomfortably, stiff and unyielding by the "safe" part of the store: the flannel bathrobe section. They would try with all their will to keep their gazes from falling on the more racy articles of clothing: the teddies, the miracle bras, the thong bikinis, etc. And on the off-chance that their flustered gazes might catch on these items, they'd snap back embarrassed faces and contemplate their feet for the duration of the visit.

Yes, this was Victoria's Secret and no man, no matter how sophisticated, dared enter willingly.

Usagi took refuge behind a counter of lace underwear and watched with grim satisfaction as Mamoru ran towards the entrance, only to halt instantly as he realized just what store he'd been about to enter. Apparently, the invisible testosterone barrier was still in effect. A look of shocked panic crossed over his features.

Usagi giggled gleefully, waving with piquant mischief from her spot. He glared at her through the vast shop window as she proceeded to stroll around the store. The one clerk was busy demonstrating scents and lotions to a group of girls in the corner, completely unaware of the game her new customer was playing.

Whistling, Usagi ventured to a section dominated by beautiful gold silk teddies, elegantly sexy pieces that cost three times her month's allowance. She held it up cheerfully for Mamoru to see from outside the store, laughing in his face as he flushed with embarrassment and placed one angry fist on the store window. She replaced the garment carefully, and cast around for some new entertainment.

It was as she moved over to the sheer gowns that she saw it: a display of Sailor Senshi inspired nightwear. The store, no doubt trying to cash in on their local super-heroines, had constructed a parody of the Sailor Suit. The bodice was a sleeveless sheath of white velvet, held up by two thin blue straps that tied over the shoulder. The skirt was, amazingly, even shorter than the real sailor suits, and made from thin, iridescent blue silk embroidered with white ribbon to form the sailor stripes. The plunging décolleté was adorned by a red bow with a faux crystal in its center. It was too obvious which Sailor THIS suit represented.

Usagi picked it up with eager hands and burst into laughter. This was great! She turned to face Mamoru, secure behind a wall of glass, and held the gown in front of her, rakishly standing in Sailor Moon pose, one v-hand slanted across her face and feet shoulder-width apart.

Mamoru froze as she taunted him openly. It was so absurdly obvious now that he knew she was Sailor Moon. She blew a kiss in his direction as she pantomimed throwing her tiara at him, even going so far as to spin in place with a graceful flourish that regular Odango Atama would never have been able to accomplish. He felt even his ears turn red with fury. Damn the consequences, he was going in.

Usagi was winding down from her spin when she chanced to look back at Mamoru. What she saw made her blood freeze. _No...surely he isn't about to...No! _It couldn't be possible! She was so sure that even HE wouldn't enter. She lost precious seconds as she reeled from the shock. He was marching purposely through the last display that separated her from certain doom before her body decided to cooperate. She flung the nightie at him and dashed towards the back of the store. _The dressing rooms...the dressing rooms...Where are the damn dressing rooms?! _

He was fast on her heels when she reached the pink alcove. She flung open one latticed door and jumped inside, closing it behind her. She was fumbling with the rusty lock when it flew open in her face. She staggered back with an "EEP!" of fright and cringed when Mamoru's tall form filled the tiny room.

* * *

Ami looked up as the draft brushed against her bare legs, the sound of hurried footsteps receding into the dressing room area.

"Ami! Pay attention! We're getting a good deal!" hissed Rei and gesticulated towards the sales lady they were all crowded around. Minako and Makoto were busy perfuming themselves with a variety of free samples.

"Oh? Oh! Yeah...you know, Rei, I don't really wear any of this stuff," frowned Ami as she surveyed the dizzying amount of lotions, talcum, and perfumes set before her. "And I think we should be looking for Usagi."

Rei rolled her eyes. "Ami, we've looked all over the mall twice now and there is no sign of a 'Tyeow' anywhere. Either Mamoru got the name wrong, or the restaurant isn't inside the mall. Whichever it is, since we are here we might as well look at the sales."

Ami chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. "It's just that I'm worried. Perhaps we should try beeping her communicator."

Rei's eyes turned serious. "Do you really want to call her in when it's the first weekend free that we've had from youmas? Remember how tired she looked this Thursday? I, for one, don't want to disturb her if she is actually having fun somewhere out there. Maybe she's out with Naru; she hasn't hung out with her in a long time."

Ami sighed. "I guess you're right. I just wanted to see if she was alright after that fight on Friday."

Rei cast a slanted glance her way. "Uh-huh. I'm sure she's dandy if she was able to kiss Tuxedo Mask like that." She rummaged along the bottom of her tote and fished the paper out again. "Just look at that! WOW!"

Ami couldn't help but draw nearer as the two girls began to sigh and "oooh" over the picture. "Okay, but in the very least we can beep her a message, right? Just telling her where we are in case she wants to join us?"

"Okay. In five minutes, after the lady rings up the sale," conceded Rei.

* * *

Usagi realized, somewhat belatedly, that taunting Mamoru in his present state of mind perhaps wasn't the smartest thing to do.

"Not feeling so brave now, huh Odango?" he towered over her, trapping her against a corner.

"Jeez, Satan, can't you take a joke?" She forced an inane laugh that faded into nothingness when his eyes turned even colder. "Er...guess not."

"How?" he demanded.

Usagi gulped and fiddled with a ponytail. "How what?"

"How did you know who I was? How can YOU be Sailor Moon?"

Usagi figured playing the innocent at this moment would be futile, but she couldn't help but put up token resistance. "What?! Are you insane? Me be Sailor Moon? Be serious!"

To her utter amazement, doubt flitted over his features. Obviously, he had not yet come to terms completely with her and Moon being the same person. _Of course not, you dolt. He hates you, and he likes her. Why would he want to think you are she?! _Still, no matter how much that hurt, it would be what would allow her to convince him. _But why? Why would you want to do that?! _Because it's the only way I can keep him, she thought sadly. _Because, even if he likes only Sailor Moon, that means that I'll be able to have him at least some of the time._ If he knew--if he knew for sure that Tsukino Usagi was Sailor Moon, no doubt he would be disgusted with both personas. At least this way, at least for a little bit, he might...

Mamoru shook his head, as though shaking free of her argument, and pressed onward. "Is that right. Then why'd you run?"

Usagi sputtered as she looked for an excuse. "W-well, what was I supposed to do when you suddenly whacked out on me like that?"

"Uh-uh, I don't buy it. Something happened," he bit out, unable to describe that silent moment of communication when it had seemed so obvious that both knew each other's secret.

"Yeah, something happened. You freaked out's what happened. And then suddenly you're chasing me like a madman," she reasoned shakily.

"And that bit with the lingerie? The little play with throwing a tiara? What excuse are you going to make up for that?" he pushed. _Why is she denying it? Why won't she confess? Why---Why do I want her to confess? _

"Good grief! How was I supposed to know you had this insane idea in your head? So I look a little like her, I play it up. What's with this sudden infatuation you have with her? Do you have the hots for her or something?" Usagi couldn't **believe** that had slipped out of her mouth. _DORK! Think before you speak! Think think think think! Now what have you done?_

Mamoru studied Usagi's alarmed face, wondering what she was trying to get at. Was this another trick? He was almost 100 sure that she was lying to him, but could not figure out her reasons for doing so. If she already knew he was Tuxedo Mask, which he was sure she had somehow been able to figure out, it was much more like her to just want to get it out in the open. But something was holding her back...

"Do you really want me to answer that?" he murmured, leaning forward slowly and inspecting the various emotions flowing behind her clear blue eyes.

"No?" she ventured. "I mean, NO! Look, I'm sure that this is all very interesting, but I really do have stuff to do. If you don't mind..." She tried to step around him.

"I mind."

She stopped. "Oh." She blew her bangs upward and decided to take the offensive, "Well, that's too bad. You are being ridiculous. Even stupider than you usually are, Satan. I'm USAGI! Remember? U-S-A-G-I. Odango Atama, whom you like to torture and pester. And I've had enough of your stupid accusations. You obviously had too much coffee today. Step aside."

Mamoru did, from the pure surprise of her vehemence. _Really, Mamoru, it's ODANGO ATAMA, after all. What are the chances?! _

She might have made it out had not a distinct ringing stopped her in her tracks. Mamoru was on her in a second.

"What is that?" he demanded, sure he'd heard the unique sound before. He reached for her.

She danced backwards and around him, keeping her communicator out of reach as she fumbled to turn off the link. "It's a beeper, Satan. Haven't you ever heard a beeper before?"

He stalked her around the small area of the room. "I have. I'm sure I've heard **that** beeper before."

Usagi managed to read the small message, thankful it wasn't a live feed, and wanted to scream in frustration.

**Usagi, we are at the mall if you want to join us. Take care.**

Well, duh! She shoved the communicator down her shirt just as Mamoru made a grab for it.

"HA!" she crowed triumphantly.

He eyed her speculatively. "You think that's going to stop me?"

"It better, if you want to keep your teeth. I'll be going now." She sauntered by.

"Not quite yet," he snapped, finally too frustrated for words. His rampaging mind had found a foolproof way to test his theory. _Rubbish. You just want an excuse._ Maybe, but that didn't change the fact that it would tell him, once and for all, what he wanted to know. "Let's settle this." He snagged the back of her shirt and drew her towards him.

"Still?! Won't you give up! You can't prove anything," she shouted at him, struggling to free her shirt from his hand. If he dared reach inside to grab her communicator, she was going to boot him into next week.

"I can and I will." He dragged her against the corner, back to her original position, and let go of her shirt. She huffed angrily as she smoothed down the creases.

"Well? I'm waiting." She crossed her arms moodily.

"I'm not," he stated. With a movement too swift for Usagi to evade, he drew her up against him and crushed his mouth against hers.

Usagi went instantly limp. _I spend all morning trying to do this, and the jerk just goes for it like it's a piece of cake,_ she thought mutinously. Granted, it was the last thought she had.

His senses were instantly flooded. Every taste, breath, touch was identical and equally as erotic. The moment his lips had touched hers he had known beyond a shadow of a doubt that his Odango was not a regular girl. His Sailor Moon was not a regular superhero. Both were Tsukino Usagi.

Yet, even though he had his answer in a matter of milliseconds, he couldn't end the kiss. He didn't want to end the kiss. This time he poured into her mouth the emotions he had been keeping at bay all morning, a mix of attraction and frustration that had accumulated for her since the time they had met. And the passion he held for a certain short-skirted hero.

Usagi wasn't sure she was breathing any longer. She realized she didn't care. This kiss could make the one in the school seem innocent. This kiss was threatening to send the dressing room into flames. Mamoru slanted her head backwards and delved into her mouth. A sound of surprise escaped her throat before she decided to return the favor. Their mouths dueled hungrily as her fingers dug tentatively into the muscled expanse of his shoulders. If she had had any more doubts--which she didn't--she would know this instant that Mamoru was Tuxedo Mask. The smoky taste of chocolate was heavy on her tongue.

Again, place and time were forgotten. A marching band could have filed into the room and they would never have noticed. Mamoru's hand climbed unerringly to her hair, tangling behind her head and using the leverage to guide her sideways, to hold her mouth still for further exploration. He groaned and lost himself in the sensation of kissing Odango Atama and Sailor Moon all at once.

The minutes passed.

* * *

"Do you want to try that on, miss?" queried the sales lady.

Minako held up the gold silk teddy and smiled. "Hmmm, it sure is pretty."

Makoto laughed at the openly-avaricious expression on Minako's face. "Down, girl. It costs a fortune. And anyway, who would you wear it for?"

Minako's hopeful sigh told volumes. "Hey, just because I'm currently single and available doesn't mean there won't come a time when I won't need something like this."

Rei sneaked up behind her. "Sure. But I doubt that it will be in style ten years from now," she sniggered.

"Hey!" protested Minako as Ami and Makoto dissolved into giggles. "Just for that, I AM trying it on!" She turned on her heel and marched towards the dressing rooms. The girls followed her, still laughing softly. Minako stood before a set of three doors, debating which room to use. With a shrug, she went for the middle one.

She opened the door and stepped inside.

The girls stood impatiently for a few moments.

"Hmmmf, now we have to wait," sighed Ami, sinking into a burgundy chair.

Makoto appeared with a green nightgown embroidered with sheer flowers.

"You wait, I'm trying on this sexy little number. I'm tired of sleeping in flannel," she stepped forward and Ami and Rei cheered her on as she arbitrarily flung wide another door.

The scrap of green satin fluttered to the floor.

Ami fell from her chair and Rei blinked her eyes a few times to make sure she wasn't seeing things.

"Hey guys, what do you think?" announced Minako as she stepped out from the adjoining room, dressed in shimmering crepe de chine.

"I think I need a camera, is what I think," muttered Makoto.

For there, in the corner of a miniscule and now very public dressing room of Victoria's Secret, Chiba Mamoru and Tsukino Usagi were locked in a heated embrace.

* * *

to be continued... 


	8. Chapter 8

Title: First Truths -- chapter 8

By: Lilac Summers

It's a kick hearing from some of you! Especially those of you who can remember so far back to my "odes" and the rest of the craziness that I would include in the author's notes.

For those who are new to this story, aren't you guys lucky I took those odes out?! As I recall, there's an "Ode to a Pencil" and "Ode to a Swivel Chair" as well.

* * *

Chapter 8

"I-I'm seeing it...but I'm not quite believing it," breathed Ami from her place on the floor.

"Uh-huh," added Rei intelligently.

"Maybe this is a dream. Yes, this is a dream. See? I'm here, in a lingerie store, wearing a gold teddy, watching Usagi-chan kiss Mamoru-san like there's no tomorrow. Any minute now a circus elephant is going to walk through the store and a giant cake will appear out of nowhere and I'll find myself naked in the middle of class. A dream. Has to be." Content with her analysis, Minako looked wildly around for the appearance of baked goods.

"Doofus, this isn't a dream! It's a Kodak moment! I'd give my life for a camera!" bemoaned Makoto.

"Excuse me, ladies, can I help you find something else?" the four girls heard the saleslady call from somewhere outside the dressing room alcove, followed by rapid footsteps in their direction. With panicked expressions, they all jumped to conceal the scandalous spectacle Mamoru and Usagi made as they kissed inside a woman's dressing room, oblivious to the world around them.

The intent was good; the execution, however...

"EEP!" squeaked four voices as they all rushed to slam the dressing room door. It wasn't until they found themselves smushed against each other that they realized just what they had done.

"Aww, shoot."

* * *

Somewhere in the back of Mamoru's mind niggled the thought that the kiss had long ago surpassed the limit of what was decent. However, that thought was stomped down with vicious glee and the resounding shout of "I DON'T CARE!"

The girl in his arms was like liquid sunshine, so warm and soft, and the kiss was utterly blinding, like staring at the sun straight on. Her small hands had fisted around his neck to grip his hair tightly when she'd found that her feet were no longer touching the floor. During some heated moment, Mamoru had wrapped strong arms around her waist and simply hauled her up, bracing the rest of her weight against the wall.

She had not minded in the least.

Thus, lost in each other, they were quite surprised when they were pushed even closer together, as impossible as it seemed, and pushed hard.

Mamoru jerked his mouth away with a slight hiss of pain as his bottom lip protested angrily to the sudden movement. Damn lip had been giving him more trouble than he ever would have anticipated.

He turned still-dazed eyes to see what had bumped him from behind. He was met with an array of four pairs of different-colored eyes, staring at him with undisguised curiosity. Hell, that was one heck of a kiss if he was suddenly hallucinating.

Groaning softly, he let his head drop to Usagi's shoulder. She stiffened for a second at the unfamiliar feeling of having the weight of his head nestle close to her neck, but slowly relaxed and let her fingers play gently along the hard lines of his biceps, straining as they held her off the ground. With her eyes closed, mind spinning in dizzying circles, she thought she would like to stay like this forever. Not think about what her being here, with him like this, meant; not think about what the other Senshi would say if they ever found ou--

"Pssst. Usagi-chan! Er...are you really comfortable with your feet hanging off the floor like that?" Minako's whisper was absurdly unnecessary in the tiny room. Her voice was loud and clear for the six people crammed in that small place.

Usagi's eyes flew open in shock and bewilderment. Over Mamoru's shoulder she saw the anxious faces of her friends. They were all squeezed into the dressing room, arms and legs sticking out at various points and muffled "ouches" and "watch your hands!" erupting every other second.

Mamoru, coming to the realization that, unfortunately, he was not hallucinating, raised beleaguered eyes to Usagi's shocked gaze and reluctantly let her slip from his grasp. Her breath caught as she slid down the length of his body until she was finally standing, at which point she reminded herself to breathe. She looked up to find Mamoru's eyes dark and hot on her face, a finger reaching up to trace her lips. It came away wet with his own blood.

"That's the second time you draw blood from me, Odango," he murmured hoarsely.

"Third," corrected Usagi without thinking. She flinched as he stilled in sudden comprehension.

"That's how you knew...!"

Usagi turned her head away, unwilling to answer the questions she knew would come.

"Not that we don't appreciate this 'very important after-school special'," droned Rei, "but would someone mind telling me WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!"

Mamoru tried to turn around to face the group of girls. He was halfway turned when he deigned to look down and see who was pressing him and Odango so unyieldingly close. He looked, blanched, and decided quickly that he'd rather have his back to the crowd, after all.

"Sorry," said Minako breezily as she struggled to keep her balance where she'd been smashed up against Mamoru. "I was trying this little number on when we found you two playing tonsil-hockey in here...ouch!!" Minako glared at Makoto as Makoto retracted her elbow in warning.

"What she means," amended Ami hastily, noticing that Mamoru's ears were dangerously flushed red, "is that she was trying on that teddy when we noticed you two settling your emotional differences."

"Yeah...that's what I meant."

"Uh-huh." Usagi had long ago resigned herself to the situation. "Well, Minako-chan, it looks great on you, anyway."

"You think?" preened the blonde as much as was possible, squished as she was between Mamoru's back and Makoto's elbow. "I think gold is really my color. Granted, it's a little expensive."

"If you save up for the next week or two, maybe ask your parents for an early allowance, you ought to be able to cover it. But, don't you think it's a little...revealing?"

"That's the point!" exulted Minako, tugging a drooping spaghetti-strap over her bare shoulder. "This baby is for special occasions."

"My god, I cannot believe you two dolts are talking about this. FOCUS, people!" raged Rei.

"And anyway, you need occasions, any occasions, before you try making them special, Minako-chan," snickered Makoto.

"That's it, one more joke about my love-life, or lack thereof, and I'm gonna start beating your heads in!"

"You might want to get dressed first before you try anything, Minako-chan," added Ami.

"Et tu, Brumus?" Minako accused Ami.

"You mean…oh, forget it."

"Whatever. Look, all I'm saying--"

"ENOUGH!" roared Mamoru. They all jumped in their respective, if somewhat crushed, places. "First of all," he seethed, "this is a private moment and I would appreciate it if you four girls would kindly leave us alone. There are a few things Odango Atama and I need to discuss."

"Amazing," Rei intervened. "I can't believe you have been in this dressing room ravishing our best friend for who-knows how long, and you **still** call her 'Odango Atama.'"

"You still call her meatball brains, Rei, even after all this time," said Ami reasonably.

"That's different. I don't sneak off into dressing rooms with her, now do I? And since when..."

Mamoru closed his eyes, letting the sound of the girls' squabbling fade, and wondered at what point, exactly, the day had decided to do him in. And if the nails digging into his arms were any indication, the day still had a long way to go.

"Yes, Satan, exactly WHEN are you going to stop calling me Odango Atama?" hissed Usagi under her breath.

He managed to tower over her threateningly and hissed right back, "When you stop calling me Satan!"

"Satan!"

"Odango Atama!"

"Satan, Satan, Satan!"

"Odango Atama!!"

"Satan!"

"Odang-aaaargh! You are impossible!" shouted Mamoru.

"I'm impossible?! I'm not the one who got us cornered in a dressing room!"

"Well, if you hadn't kissed me in the first place--"

"I DIDN'T KISS YOU! You kissed me!" replied Usagi hotly.

"You kissed me the first time!" argued Mamoru.

"I didn't know it was you! You think I would have kissed _you_?!"

The words were out before she thought them through. Usagi watched Mamoru flinch away from her and she felt absolutely horrible for it. It seemed that they were destined to hurt each other with insults.

Oblivious to the silent, intent gazes of the four other girls, Usagi gripped Mamoru's shirt and pulled gently. He looked down at her blindly. "I didn't mean that," she murmured.

"Didn't you?" he asked quietly. She found, to her dismay, that she could not meet his eyes. She turned away.

"I thought so." There were angry, hurt undertones to his voice, but his face was impassive. He wrenched away from her grip and waded through the stunned mass of Minako, Makoto, Ami, and Rei. With one hand on the door, he turned to regard Usagi steadily. "We'll have to talk about this. Later." And then he had walked out, the saleslady freezing as the tall man exited the dressing room.

Warily she walked over to the dressing room, cringing when she caught the startled gazes of the girls she'd been talking to and who, she thought, had disappeared from the store earlier. With nothing else to say, she mutely stared, and they stared back.

After a few failed attempts, she cleared her throat and croaked out the first thing that came to mind. "Miss? Are you going to take that negligee?"

Minako fought her way out of the teeny room and rushed for her own clothes in the other, empty cubicle. "No."

"Oh," said the sales lady, then spun on her heel and took refuge behind the counter, far away from the dressing alcove and any other people who might decide to pop out of the dressing rooms.

* * *

"I can't tell you yet. I promise to tell you everything soon."

Rei twirled the straw in her soda idly and regarded Usagi with uncertainty. "Are you sure?"

Usagi nodded vehemently. "It's not just for me to share. I--I have to know that it's okay."

Makoto leaned forward, concern evident in her eyes. "Okay for whom? Usagi-chan, if this is important, we need to know. It's dangerous for you to get so close to Tuxedo Mask like that. You don't know what he's after."

Ami cut her off. "Makoto-chan, I'm sure it's not like that. If anything, Usagi seems to be getting involved with Mamoru-san. She wouldn't be two-timing either of them." She patted Usagi's hand, smiling kindly.

Usagi fought off the panicked instinct to laugh hysterically. "Guys, I don't know what's going on between Sata--I mean, Mamoru-san and me. But I do know that Tuxedo Mask would never hurt me." _"You know I'd never hurt you," Mamoru had said when she had offered to let him punch her. And, even then, she'd believed him implicitly._

She dropped her forehead to the cool surface of the booth they appropriated, not far from where she and Mamoru had sat earlier that morning. "I just need some time to think. But everything will work out." At least, she prayed it would. It had to.

Makoto opened her mouth to argue again, but Minako stopped her with a sharp shake of her head. Instead, she tugged on one of Usagi's pigtails playfully. "Usagi-chaaaan, you've been a busy girl today! You look drained, girl! How do you hope to catch yourself a man if you look like you've been run over twice by an ice-cream truck? Go home, take a nap, give Luna a hard time if you feel up to it. Later, we can meet up at Makoto's and she can cook us all dinner, okay?"

The thought of the three things she loved to do most--sleeping, eating, and giving Luna a hard time--cheered Usagi immeasurably, as Minako knew they would. "Hai, Minako-chan, that's a great idea. When you're right, you're right. I'll go now, if it's okay with you." Minako obligingly slid out of the booth and let Usagi pass, smiling sunnily as she noticed the renewed bounce in her friend's step.

"Bye, Usagi-chan! Don't forget dinner. Makoto'll be making chocolate cake, too," called Minako to Usagi's retreating form. After Usagi had disappeared in a throng of shoppers, Minako slumped back into her seat.

"So, since when was I going to cook dinner for you guys?" demanded Makoto.

"Yeah, Minako. We're not as easy to fool as Usagi-chan. You practically offered to carry her home, yourself. Why'd you want her to leave?" Rei assessed Minako from across the table and Minako seemed to shrink into the booth.

She dropped her head in her hands and sighed gustily. "Guys, you aren't gonna like what I figured out."

"Go on..." urged Ami.

"Well, I let Usagi go cuz, first of all, she wasn't going to tell us anything, and, second of all, I think I know what her secret is, anyway."

"WHAT?! How do you know?!" exploded Rei.

Minako smoothed her hands over the slight rise of goosebumps over her chilled arms. "I don't know. It was a feeling...Rei, you know what I'm talking about. I know you felt it that night when Tuxedo Mask ran off with Sailor Moon."

Rei straightened in her seat. "You mean...?"

"Uh-huh," whispered Minako miserably.

"Okay, I am completely missing what you two are talking about, and I don't like not understanding," complained Ami.

"That makes two of us. Will you girls please make sense?" ordered Makoto.

"It goes like this: I'm the Senshi of Love, right?" Minako paused while the other girls nodded their agreement thus far. "And because of this, I can sometimes tell when two people are bound, through destiny or fate or whatever you want to call it. At least, Artemis said that I would be able to tell, but only if the link was strong enough, and only when I'd grown a little more into my power, and if the two people were completely focused on each other, and yadda yadda yadda. You all know how he likes to go on and on. Anyway, I'd never really paid attention. I'd never felt anything. And then..." she fell silent, struggling to find the words that would describe her suspicions.

"You felt something?" prompted Ami. "Something that had to do with Usagi and...and Tuxedo Mask?"

"And I felt it too," added Rei. "Well, I felt something or other. It was like energy, flowing between the two of them. I don't know what it was, but it was powerful."

"You felt the link. And not just any link, guys." Minako gulped and closed her eyes. "A soul bond. It's what connects soul mates, if you prefer that term. It can't be anything else. Nothing else would feel this strong and I sense it deep down in my bones. NOTHING is going to keep those two from reaching some ultimate connection. If something or someone tries to step between them, there's going to be a lot of trouble."

"Oh, my. Then...then what does this mean? What is going to happen to poor Mamoru?" asked Makoto, worrying the tip of her thumbnail. Rei and Ami nodded slowly, wondering the same thing.

Minako groaned and thumped her head against the table. "Ohhhh, don't you guys get it? In the dressing room just now, standing so close to them, with them so oblivious to us even though we were in the same freakin' four square feet. I felt the same link again!"

Three pairs of eyes widened. "You can't mean...!"

"Yes! Mamoru-san is Tuxedo Mask!"

* * *

"Mom, I'm home!" called Usagi as she stepped out of her shoes. She padded through the living room and towards the stairs, feeling the emptiness in the house and, therefore, not surprised when no one answered her back. Her parents tended to go out together on Saturdays since she and her brother usually spent the day with their friends. Her room was also empty. She was both relieved and disappointed that Luna wasn't home. On the one hand, there was too high a chance that she might have seen the infamous picture in the paper and, in that case, Usagi did NOT want to deal with her questions. On the other hand, teasing Luna mercilessly was just so much fun.

She flopped on her bed and stared at the ceiling. No matter how much she wanted to, she could not lose herself in sleep. Her mind refused to shut down.

_You will never be the same after that kiss._

No, she didn't want to think of that. But how could she not, when the mere remembrance sent thrilling bolts of pleasure up and down her back?

_You just kissed Satan, you know._

She frowned. If anyone had told her she was going to be clinging to Chiba Mamoru as if the very air she breathed depended on it, she would have been the first to consign them to the devil. But in the past twenty-four hours, she had managed to do exactly that. Not once, but twice!

_I didn't know the he was Mamoru the first time._

Which made it even worse, because now she didn't understand even her own feelings. Liking Tuxedo Mask had been a constant in her life. The moment she had set eyes on him, she had known that he would always own part of her heart. Fighting, however, with Chiba Mamoru had also been a constant. Whenever he was around, it had felt like the very air around her was electrified. He scared her silly, he made her raging mad, he made her blood boil.

_He turns you on._

Had that been it? Had she been fighting against attraction all this time? Had she been defensive merely because he had always been so mean to her? Would she have fallen for him the same as she had fallen for Tuxedo Mask if he had been nice to her from the start?

_Why wasn't he nice to me from the start? Why was he always so mean to me?_

Why, indeed. He had never liked her. Had that changed? And if it had, was it because he now knew she was Sailor Moon, or was it because she had scared him as thoroughly as he scared her?

Too many questions and, sadly, no answers. But now that he was in her blood, she would never be able to get him out. Did it matter why she felt like this? It mattered to her. She wanted to know if he was interested now in her only because of her alter ego. It was strange to think that he might be wondering the same thing.

_Just admit to yourself what you feel. For once, stop lying to yourself __about this. You may not know the answers to his feelings, but you know __your own._

All right.

_I love him. I don't know when, I don't know how. I know that when he __looked at me as Chiba Mamoru, my stomach would clench and I'd want to __see him smile at me, or talk to me, or anything that would bring me into contact with him. I confess, I even threw some of my shoes at his head on purpose, just to make him mad. I know that when he saved me, as Tuxedo Mask, my heart would flutter and I'd strain to see beyond the mask. I wanted to know the man behind the façade. And I fell in love with him, too. And when I found out Tuxedo Mask and Chiba Mamoru were one and the same, deep down I was so happy I could hardly hold it in. But I was confused. I was afraid. Mamoru seemed to only hold anger for me, amusement at best. I didn't want to get hurt. But I won't lie to myself anymore. I don't know how it happened; I never imagined it could take me so quickly but...I love the entire man, the upperclassman and the hero._

So at the very least, she would know her own feelings. No matter what he said, she would be true to herself. If--if he did not feel with the same intensity she did for him, she would take solace in the knowledge that, at least twice in her life, she had felt alive in his arms.

_Now the question only stands...do you love me, too? Not just Sailor Moon, but the klutzy, ditzy, childish Usagi-chan, also? Will you love the entire woman...Mamo-chan?_

* * *

to be continued 


	9. Chapter 9

Title: First Truths -- Part 9

Author: Lilac Summers

_Italics denote thoughts. . .usually._

* * *

Chapter 9

For the second time in as many days, it was a confused and tired Mamoru who entered the apartment. This time, however, he entered through the front door, slipping out of his shoes as an afterthought. He went through the mechanical motions of boiling water for tea, then washed the dishes he had left soaking in the sink that morning. After the task was done, he turned--a little desperately--around in circles in the middle of the living area. There had to be something that needed to be done, anything to keep his mind off what had transpired today. But the apartment was, as always, immaculate. Even the tea was ready.

Mamoru took the steaming cup and slumped down on his couch, flipping the television on as he passed. He carefully kept his thoughts on the mundane, silly conversation between some random anime characters. When the show ended, he concentrated on the next. And the next. For two hours he lulled his mind into a hazy, pleasurable state of distraction. _See? It's not so hard not to think about her._ Except, of course, for the fact that he was thinking about not thinking about her.

He set his tea cup down with more force than was necessary. The long-cooled liquid sloshed onto the coffee table. He drove his hands into his hair with a defeated sigh. This was pathetic. To think that he was agonizing over Odango Atama, of all people. Not simply agonizing...obsessing! Over a girl he'd met only a few months ago, no less! And what an auspicious meeting it had been: getting bonked on the head with a failed test. Yet, she'd become a constant fixture in his life, little by little. It had suddenly seemed as if everywhere he turned, she was there. Through fate, or chance, or luck...it just seemed to happen.

And he thought he'd had her judged. He'd thought he knew everything there was to know about Tsukino Usagi. Flighty, unstoppable, clumsy, cheerful, and yes, attractive...but nothing truly spectacular on the surface. It wasn't until he'd seen her smile at someone--it skipped his mind, now, who had been the lucky person--that he'd understood where her true power lay. So he'd teased her and, once in a lucky while, even conjured a smile out of her between their raging fights. But still, he had never entertained the idea of a relationship with her because, deep down, he knew he was already in love...in love with his princess.

So it had been very disturbing and somewhat frightening when he had started to fall for Sailor Moon. He loved her courage, her strength, and her loyalty to her friends. And then he couldn't seem to stop himself from bumping into Odango, and he'd been even more disturbed, and even panicked, at the idea that she, too, seemed to have some hold over him. He could not resist her laughter, her joy, her love for life. And, throughout all this, he knew_--knew--_that somewhere out there, his dream princess was waiting for him. He could not betray her.

The thought of putting her aside, the one whod haunted and graced his dreams for so long, was simply inconceivable to him...or had been until all these conflicting feelings for Sailor Moon and Odango had emerged. At least, thankfully, that now made sense. Odango and Moon were the same person! As crazy and unlikely as it seemed, there was no doubt now. But his princess...

_Haven't you been unfaithful to her already? You have feelings for __Usagi._

NO! No, no, no...he couldn't. He was already in love. This…this caring for Odango was--had to be--some temporary thing. They were thrown together by circumstance constantly, of course he would have feelings for her, it was only natural and meant absolutely nothing.

_I cannot be in love with Odango._

* * *

"Usagi-chan, that nice young man called again. He said it was important," Usagi heard her mother call from downstairs.

Usagi sighed and burrowed underneath her pillow. It was Sunday, a day after that disaster at the mall. Since then, Mamoru had called five times. Twice on Saturday, Usagi had let the machine pick up. As her parents weren't home, it hadn't seemed to matter. But today, he'd been trying to contact her since the ungodly hour of 10 am. Her mother had answered the phone and Usagi had barely been coherent as she trudged downstairs to talk to "a young man on the line," as her mother had said. Well, she'd muttered a sleepy "moshi moshi", and heard him say "Hello, Odango," before she realized who it was. Needless to say, she'd hung up the phone in a hurry and then decided to hide up in her room the rest of the day.

The second time he called, Usagi told her mother to tell him she was doing homework. Actually, she'd told her mother she was doing homework, and her mother hadn't wanted _anything_ to interfere with that.

Ah, her poor mother was gullible soul.

But this time she was out of excuses. She only knew that she could not talk to him. Not yet. Her feelings were too raw and delicate to handle him, yet.

"Tell him I've got the flu! Tell him it's veeeery contagious. Ooh! Tell him he could die if he comes within a fifty meter radius. Yes, that's perfect! Tell him that!" Usagi shut the door to her room again as her mother relayed her message, then resumed feeling sorry for herself, lying down next to a dozing Luna. Her life sucked. However, if she could just keep Mamoru away for a little longer, she might be able to straighten out the mess her life had become--

"So, you're at death's door, I hear. Must be tough, what with all the homework you've been doing and everything."

"You don't know the half of it, Sat---ACK! SATAN!!" Usagi bolted upright, watching in disbelief as Tuxedo Mask swung long legs through her window.

A wry smile curved his lips. "I'm here to take your soul."

"You're here to get me grounded!" she shrieked, bounding to her bedroom door to lock it.

"Usag-hmpph!!!" Usagi threw a pillow at a wakening Luna, silencing her abruptly. Casting an alarmed look towards Tuxedo Mask, she snatched Luna up and threw her out the door. Only when she heard a pained "yeoch!" did she remember she had just finished closing and locking it. She snatched the dazed Luna and threw her out the window, instead.

Tuxedo Mask, the perverse man, simply raised an eyebrow in the face of her panic and watched the startled black cat fly out the window. "You do live on the second floor, you know."

"Cats land on their feet."

"I should report you to the humane society."

Usagi wrung her hands and prayed that Luna would be dazed enough to not try climbing back into her room any time soon. "She's a strong kitty. In fact she, er, likes to be thrown out of windows. It's a little game we have. A thrill-seeker...that's my Luna," Usagi finished lamely.

Silence reigned as she stared at him, he at her.

"So...is it just me, or did your cat start to talk when she woke up?" asked Tuxedo Mask.

Usagi's eyes got impossibly wide. "Talk?! HA HA HA HA HA HA! No."

"Oh. My mistake," murmured Tuxedo Mask.

Once again, silence.

"Okay, Satan. I give up. Not that I won't enjoy seeing my father come after you with a shotgun, but just what in the world were you thinking, sneaking into my room in broad daylight?!"

She was sure his eyes were glittering behind the mask as he seized the opening. "I see. So it would have been okay if I sneaked into your room at night?"

She sputtered angrily, blushing the color of her school uniform bow, and took the opportunity to throw a stuffed rabbit at him. "Of course not! You--You know what I mean!"

Tuxedo Mask dodged the rabbit and it bounced harmlessly off the wall.

"You're pretty energetic for a girl who's suffering from a fatal flu," he sneered.

"I'm suddenly feeling remarkably better. Maybe it's because the virus decided you were a much better catch and jumped on you, instead. You might be on the verge of collapse and not even know it."

"Uh-huh. That's very plausible, all common rules of biology notwithstanding."

"Just shut up! You're supposed to be in your own home! How the heck did you get here so quickly?" she demanded, angry that he had forced this confrontation with her.

He slipped a slim, sleek black cellular phone from his tuxedo jacket and waved it in her face. "Haven't you ever heard of a cellular phone before?" he taunted, throwing her prior words about her beeper at her face.

"You," she announced, "are the most annoying guy I've ever known. I have no idea why I ever thought Tuxedo Mask was so great."

He stilled just as she bit down on her unruly tongue, just a moment too late. Slowly, he reached up and removed the omnipresent mask. Just like that...Chiba Mamoru. It was staggering, finally casting aside all disguises like that. It held an odd sense of finality.

"I'm sorry if I disappointed you, Usagi," he said quietly. So shocked was she at his serious, almost sad, demeanor, she missed his use of her name. "We need to talk," he sighed, flinging away both hat and mask so that they landed softly on her bed.

Usagi's shoulders slumped as the fight drained out of her. "Yeah, I guess we do." But she didn't want to talk. This was much safer, insulting each other like this. At least it was something she knew, something she was comfortable with. When she was teasing him, or fighting with him, she didn't have to think about those heavy, deep feelings that he inspired in her. It seemed that, if she could only keep it on that same level, she wouldn't get hurt. _But it's too late now..._

"First of all, I want to apologize for my behavior in the mall," he began. "It was wrong of me, and I shouldn't have done it."

It hurt terribly to hear those words. She felt her heart clench slowly and painfully as it struggled to beat against the tightness in her chest. _He's apologizing for the most meaningful moment in my life. _ In her mind, she began to scream a thousand insults at him. _Idiot! Moron! Selfish jerk! Don't you know what you've done to me?!_

"It's okay. Er...I'm sorry for my behavior at the school, then," she choked out.

He grimaced, but nodded his acceptance at her. "I guess neither one of us is to blame. We were just caught up in the moment." God, he truly wanted to believe that. But he was so afraid that he was lying to himself.

"Yeah, the moment..." she echoed dully.

"Truth is, I wanted to talk to you about our missions," he continued, blithely unaware that all life seemed to have melted out of Usagi's eyes. "Now that we know who each other is, we might as well be up-front about this. I want something you have."

_But you don't want me..._ Usagi shook her head sharply and tried to concentrate on what he was saying. There would be plenty of time later for her heart to finish breaking. "What?"

"You have information I need. You have resources I don't have. I want to know everything you know about the Princess."

"The Princess?" Usagi asked, startled. "Why would you want to know about the Princess?"

He turned from her, unwilling or unable to meet her gaze. "She...she is special to me. She holds the key to my past and--and my future."

"Special to you?" Usagi felt like a parrot, but she could not seem to stop repeating what he said. Every syllable he uttered was a revelation. "How could she be special to you? Do you know her?"

He shook his head, idly examining the objects of her bedside table as he tried to find a way to explain his feelings to her. In the back of his mind, he marveled at the idea that he was actually here, inside Odango's room. It suited her character perfectly, decorated in soft pastels and fabrics. A menagerie of stuffed animals littered her bed. Her school books lay unopened on her desk. He couldn't help but smile at the sight. I knew she couldn't possibly be doing homework. He picked up a pretty vial of blue glass and unstopped it, bringing it up to his nose for a careful whiff. Usagi's trademark scent wafted sweetly from the little vial. He put the bottle down abruptly, his hands shaking.

"I...I can't really say that I know her, Odango. I know of her. I've known of her for a long, long time. Ever since I lost my parents, I--"

"Wait," Usagi intervened, surprised, "you lost your parents? When?"

He looked over at her, unsure why she wanted to know. "A long time ago. I was only a kid." He stopped, dismayed at the wave of compassion that had suddenly flooded Odango's blue eyes. "It was a long time ago," he said gruffly. "I got over it."

But Usagi knew he hadn't gotten over it. He probably never would. She ached to comfort him, but guessed he would not want comfort from her. Maybe from his princess, but not from her. And then she realized what he meant.

"Oh! So that's how she's special to you," she whispered, as the ground seemed to spin away from her. She raised haunted eyes to him. "You love her."

He nodded mutely and felt like a liar._ I **do** love her._ With all his heart. So why did it feel as if he was off track, as if he was missing a vital piece of a puzzle?

Usagi sunk down her bed, trying not to look shell-shocked as she blinked away renegade tears. "Well, I wish I could help you," though a little part of her screamed the opposite, "but we are as clueless about the Princess as you are. All I know is that we have to find her and protect her." And then she couldn't help but add, because she was angry and ragingly jealous of this Princess he had never even met yet had his heart, anyway: "but if I did know something, I wouldn't tell you. We have to protect her from everything, and that might mean you."

Mamoru's eyes darkened in anger and he stalked over to her, stopping to glare down at her. "That's a very mean thing to say, Odango. Even for you. You know I would never hurt her."

"How can I know that?!" she flung back. "I don't even know you! You've only been this high school guy who teases me about my grades."

"I've saved your hide more times than I can count," he bit out fiercely, clenching his fists. "If it weren't for me, you would have been youma feed by now."

"Oh, good for you! Don't you just deserve a cookie! You know what I think? I think you saved me all those times just because you wanted me to lead you to your precious princess. I mean, how hard was it for you, after all? So you throw a rose, say a little haiku, and then disappear into the night. You never stuck around to see if we needed you!" she accused, uncaring that she had finally let her tears escape.

"I didn't know I was part of a team. You should be grateful I followed your damn link every time you called, like some idiot trained dog," he raged.

Her eyes became awash in tears and confusion, uncertain of where she had lost the line of the argument. "What are you talking about?!"

"Classic. Now you play the innocent. The link, Odango. The one that leads me to you? I assume you are responsible for it."

Usagi scrubbed impatient hands over her wet cheeks. "That's it. Now you've really cracked, Satan. You are making absolutely no sense. WHAT link?"

Mamoru seethed quietly for ten seconds, trying to get his emotions under control. "Why do we always end up fighting, Odango?"

Usagi hung her head and let a waterfall of blonde hair hide her face. "I don't know." Maybe because it was the only weapon she had against this phantom Princess.

"I don't want to fight with you, Usagi."

She raised her head slowly, forcing a smile at his dejected tone. "You must really want a truce, if you even called me Usagi."

He smiled endearingly, like a little boy caught doing something naughty. Usagi closed her eyes briefly, wanting to keep the picture of the cold, mean upperclassman in her mind. But that picture was fast disappearing.

"So, about this link...you're saying you don't call me to you?" he began again. Usagi shook her head, eyes wide in her pale face.

"Then why the heck am I linked to you?!"

"Er, what exactly is this link like?" Usagi broached delicately. In her mind's eye, she was imagining a leash around Mamoru's neck, and she was the one holding the lead. Usagi grinned diabolically at the picture.

"It's right here," he said, pounding his chest softly with a fist. "A thread. I can sort of feel where you are when you're Sailor Moon, maybe catch glimpses of what you're feeling now and then. You really don't feel anything?"

"No," Usagi said, indignant at the idea that he had this insight that she was denied. "That's totally unfair! How come you can sense all this and I can't?!" She stomped over to him and smacked him smartly on the chest. "I want you to stop it right now."

That old teasing light was back in Mamoru's eyes. "I can't feel it right now, Odango. Why, thinking naughty thoughts?"

She glared at him from beneath heavy lashes. "What I'm thinking right now involves you, hell, and your current place of residence. Figure that one out, psychic boy."

"Well, if you want to test it, just turn into Sailor Moon and see," he challenged.

"All right!" Usagi moved towards her dresser, where she'd stashed her locket, only to pause in uncertainty. "Actually, I'd rather not."

"Why not? It's not like I don't know who you are, Odango."

_Because I've already lost so much to you today._ This last act would be one of total trust. As vague as Mamoru made it sound, she did not want him to have the chance to sense her feelings. Today, her true feelings had to be guarded against further harm from him.

"I might be able to explain to my mother why Tuxedo Mask is in my room if, horror of horrors, she finds out you're here one way or another. It would be an entirely different thing if both Tuxedo Mask and Sailor Moon are in this room, and I'm nowhere to be seen," she reasoned.

Mamoru conceded the point, though he felt she was not telling him the entire truth. "Fine. Then perhaps you could ask one of the other Senshi if they've ever heard of any such link, maybe one of them shares it with you, too, and you don't even know it." For some reason, that probability made the situation seem less volatile.

"Good idea, I'll ask Am--" Usagi bit back the name. "I'll ask Sailor Mercury." Usagi looked at Mamoru sheepishly."I'm sorry, but I won't tell you who they are until I find out they're okay with it."

Mamoru nodded, a little saddened at another display of what he thought was her lack of trust in him. _But why do you want her to trust you so __much? You should be trying to keep her at arm's length_. He sighed, finally tired with his over-active conscience. He knew what he was supposed to be doing, but being with her like this, relaxed and friendly, felt undeniably right. _You're treading a dangerous path..._

"You do what you think is best," he said lightly, moving away from his place near the dresser, intent on leaving through the window. Usagi stopped him with a gentle touch on his arm as he passed her.

"I'm sorry for blowing up on you earlier. I've...had a lot on my mind. If--When we find the Princess, I'll make sure you know," she said softly.

Mamoru bowed slightly at the waist in gratitude, unsure of what more to say. He had one foot out the window when Usagi stopped him again.

"Wait!" she called hurriedly, stumbling towards him as she clutched something tightly in her hand. She reached his side and looked up at him, her gaze warm yet unreadable. "Here."

She took his hand and placed a cool, hard object in his palm, closing his fingers over it. His hand clenched convulsively on the object, somehow already knowing what he would find when he loosened his hold. A thin gold chain slithered through his fingers, the star-shaped pendant resting in his palm. It opened of its own volition and the light melody commenced.

"This...this is the locket I gave you once, when you were Sailor Moon. You don't have to give it back, Odango."

She smiled kindly, touching the shimmering surface of the locket for one last time. "You told me that it had been a gift to you. You couldn't remember from whom, though. I think...I think she gave it to you once, long ago," she gulped, blinking to erase the moisture from her eyes. "You should keep it so that you can give it to her when you finally meet her again."

He clenched the trinket in his hand and the melody stopped abruptly.

"Thank you," he managed around the tightening in his throat. He slid the rest of the body through the window, winding the now-silent locket around his wrist, and feeling as though he was making the biggest mistake of his life.

Usagi watched him disappear from her window, then watched his silhouette make the leap effortlessly onto their neighbor's roof. Only when she was certain that he was far, far away, did she allow herself to grieve.

* * *

The end.

* * *

No! I'm kidding, I'm kidding! It's not the end. Would I ever end a story with poor Usagi-chan in tears?! Of course not.

To be continued.


	10. Chapter 10

Title: First Truths -- part 10

Author: Lilac Summers

Rated: PG (slight language)

_italics denote thoughts. usually_

* * *

Chapter 10 

Monday afternoon...

Usagi chewed the end of her pencil until it became an unrecognizable lump. Glancing at it with disinterest, she threw it over her shoulder and rummaged through her book bag for another. Once she had the trusty #2 in hand, she happily began to chew on it, too.

"Usagi-chan, I don't think wood is one of the four food groups," observed Minako. She and Usagi were doing math homework underneath the leafy canopy of a tree in the center of the park. Well, they were trying to do math homework. In reality, neither had made it past the first half of the first problem. And with Ami off in her cram school, Rei busy at the shrine, and Makoto at some after-school cooking classes, there was less than dubious hope that they would get farther than that.

"I dunno," slurred Usagi around a mouthful of pencil. "Wood cud be conshidered a grain." She took out the pencil, spit out some wayward wood shavings, and shoved it back in her mouth.

"A-ha!" shouted Minako, index finger pointing accusingly at Usagi, "so you were paying attention in nutrition class!"

"Eh?" mumbled Usagi, eyebrows raised quizzically. She removed the pencil once more. "I resent the implication that I might have been paying attention in class! I'll have you know that Makoto taught me what the four food groups were."

Minako slumped back and resumed doodling on her homework. "Oh. I thought I had you there."

"Hah! You'd have to get up pretty early in the morning to catch Tsukino Usagi paying attention at school!" crowed Usagi, lifting a victorious fist into the air.

"I don't see why; you're never up early."

"Ahhhhh...true." The victorious fist sagged sadly. Usagi rolled onto her back, balancing her chewed pencil on her upper lip. "You know what I've decided, Minako-chan?"

"What?" asked Minako, copying Usagi's pose. The two girls looked almost identical, with their blonde hair intermingling in the green grass, both girls clad in their blue school uniforms.

"I've decided," philosophized Usagi, "that math was put on this earth merely to annoy me. Maybe it's a Negaverse tool in disguise."

Minako grunted in agreement, watching the sunlight filter through the leaves above their heads. The two continued to lie in companionable silence, both musing over the unfairness of mathematics. After a moment, Minako decided to broach the topic that the other girls had relegated into her realm of responsibilities.

"Usagi-chan?" she began tentatively.

"Hmm?"

"Usagi-chan, do you think you're ready to talk about...it?"

Usagi stilled from fiddling lazily with the pencil, letting it drop to the cool grass. She turned her head towards Minako, finding that the other girl had done the same. "It?"

Minako nodded slowly, eyes probing into Usagi's. "You know, about Tuxedo Mask and--and Mamoru-san." She gulped noiselessly. "We know something's going on between you and...them. Usagi-chan, you might feel better if you tell someone what you're feeling." She let the silence hang, giving Usagi ample time to offer information. When none was forthcoming, she cut in rapidly, "You don't have to tell me, Usagi-chan. You know any of us is here for you at any time. And--and we understand more than you realize."

Usagi looked away blindly, not quite sure she was ready to divulge Mamoru's secret, and her subsequent feelings, just yet. However, something in Minako's voice seemed to beg for a confession. "H--How much do you understand?"

They had already discussed how they were going to handle this. Minako had been chosen because, quite simply, she had a more advanced grasp on matters of the heart. The girls had unanimously decided that they would not pressure Usagi into confessing what she knew unless it became imperative that the entire story come out in the open. Granted, they were dying out of curiosity, but were now certain that, whatever came to pass, Mamoru would never hurt Usagi. He was incapable of it.

Minako sat up and gazed down at Usagi with poignant sympathy. "We'll understand as much as you want us to understand." Usagi seemed to brighten for a second, then seemed to withdraw, her eyes shuttered against Minako.

Heartbreaking sadness washed over her features and Minako scurried to reassure her in some way. "Usagi-chan, truly! You can tell us whatever you wish, and we won't judge, and I'll even keep Rei from calling you Meatball Brains if it makes you feel better, and Makoto can bake you a cake for every day of the week, and I'm sure if I set my mind to it, I can get Ami to do your math homework for you--"

Usagi couldn't help but laugh at her friend's babbling promises. "Minako-chan, if you could do all that, I would gladly tell you everything that's ever run through my mind. But..but right now I'm confused and I don't," Usagi gestured futilely with her hands, "I don't think it will really matter, because he doesn't feel for me like I..."

Her words trailed off and Makoto could only stare, disbelief obvious on her face. Not feel the same? Is that what Usagi thought? By the strength of their pure attraction alone, Makoto doubted Usagi had any inkling just how deep Mamoru's feelings really ran. Their kind of link could span lifetimes, timelines, dimensions.

"Usagi-chan," she began, wanting to reassure her friend, "regardless of what you think, I'm positive that-" and then she broke off, realizing that she would reveal how much the girls already knew if she made the statement that Mamoru-san was already bound to her. _And do I want to tamper with their fate like that? They should find out on their own, realize that their love has caused the link, and not the other way around_. As Senshi of Love, Minako suddenly experienced this certainty. She wondered at herself silently, amazed that she should see the threads of Usagi's and Mamoru's relationship so clearly. A love had to be very strong for such a novice to be able to be so sure of it. It was as if a little voice was guiding her, telling her how to maneuver the two lovers so they would realize their own feelings without falling into misconceptions.

Minako emerged from her introspective foray to find Usagi waiting for her to finish her sentence. "Positive of what, Minako-chan?" Usagi queried softly.

Minako smiled brightly. "I'm positive that everything will work out fine, if you just let it happen, Usagi-chan. Now," she stated, flexing slim biceps, "let's get back to work!"

Usagi sighed, almost too happy to abandon her current sad thoughts for the amazingly less-depressing subject of math. She rolled onto her stomach and plucked her abused pencil from the grass. "Yeah, yeah. The devil's tool, I tell ya. Math surely began somewhere in hell. I wonder if they make you do math equations there. I can see it now: an eternity of 'if train A leaves from Tokyo at 2 pm, and train B leaves Kyoto at 4, and the wind is blowing at 35 kilometers per hour while a sparrow flies 50 meters overhead, how long will it take the old, three-legged man who lives on 10th street to get to the corner store...without his shoes on?"

Minako broke out into a fit of giggles. "It sounds like torment enough for me. Math sucks!"

"Math is actually a vital component of a well-rounded education," intoned a deep voice as a shadow fell upon them.

Minako's eyes got impossibly wide and she huddled next to Usagi. "Oh my god, I think the devil actually heard you, Usagi," she hissed fearfully.

Usagi, however, was less impressed. "And speaking of the devil," she sighed, "ladies and gentlemen, Satan himself." She craned her neck upwards, bitter that, no matter what, her world did seem to revolve around this man. "Satan, how do you do it? You always pop out of nowhere at just the right times."

"Call it a gift," he laughed, relieved at the easy banter. He had debated for more than twenty minutes whether he should intrude upon the two girls. He'd watched them from the solitary safety of a park bench, trying yet failing to keep his attention on his physics book. In the end, he'd been drawn as unerringly as a horse to water.

Meanwhile, Minako had emerged from her hiding place, berating herself for her flight of fancy. Anyway, her senses were already thrumming like crazy. Ever since the incident with the youma a few nights ago, she could feel the increasing strength of their attraction. _Sheesh! I'm amazed that these two don't just go up in flames from sharing the same general space!_ She stumbled to her feet and nodded her head politely at Mamoru. "Hi! I'm not sure we've ever been truly introduced. I'm Aino Minako. Usagi's friend? The one wearing the silk teddy?"

Mamoru flushed at the reminder while Usagi stifled guffaws from her place on the floor. He decided to turn the tables. "Ah, yes. I know. I'm supposed to be madly in love with you; at least, that's what Odango told me after she climbed onto my lap."

Minako raised an interested eyebrow and Usagi's giggles turned into indignant choking. She stood between them, Mamoru standing before her and Usagi reclining on the ground behind her. As Mamoru laughed at Usagi's protests, Minako felt the world close in around the two. The atmosphere seemed laden with hidden innuendoes and feelings, sparks of awareness arching from one to the other and vice versa. _I think I'm going to faint..._ She hastily moved away from them, her movement abrupt enough to have the two falter in their bickering.

"Minako-chan?" Usagi looked up at her with surprised eyes.

"Eh...I'm going to get something to drink, Usagi-chan. Either of you want anything?" she asked, already edging away from them. Usagi shook her head and Mamoru politely declined, both obviously content with the excuse supplied. Minako took one last look at them, and got the hell out of Dodge.

* * *

"Soooo," Mamoru drew the word out, self-conscious now that they were alone. "I wanted to know if you had had a chance to ask the Senshi anything about the link," he supplied, because it was the only thing that popped to mind. He decided not to mention that he had easily deduced the true identities of the "Senshi." After all, once you found one out, the others were pretty obvious. The fivesome was inseparable, after all. 

Whatever she might have been expecting, shoptalk was not it. Usagi's spirit threatened to deflate, but she rallied with characteristic mischief. "Not yet, Satan. I haven't even told them who you are...Er, I can tell them who you are, right?"

Mamoru sunk down to sit beside her, running through various repercussions in his head. In truth, he was surprised she hadn't told the others already. He figured it couldn't hurt his mission; it might even make them more open to trust in him and, thus, help him find what he sought. "Guess so."

"Hmmm." Usagi toyed with a blade of glass, pencil forgotten in her right hand, as both wracked their brains for something to say. Usagi bit her lip, wondering why it was that she was so aware of him, attuned to every movement, to his clean scent. _How can I let him go if I feel like he's in the very air I breathe?_

After a bit of silence, Usagi concentrated on scribbling on her homework. Finally, Mamoru leaned over her and peered at her open Algebra book. From there, his gaze shifted to her mostly-blank paper, then noticed that the space that was taken up was covered with various doodles. Only the first problem had been begun, and half-heartedly at that.

"Odango, don't you think you should be doing your homework instead of...of," he squinted his eyes, trying to make out the forms she was drawing, "of drawing your cat in pajamas?"

Usagi tilted her head, looking at the sketch. "She's wearing an astronaut suit, you dummy. It's perfectly obvious. Why would I draw Luna in pajamas?"

Mamoru nodded in abject surrender. "Of course, what was I thinking? My point, Odango, is that you are ignoring your homework. No wonder you don't pass your tests."

Usagi debated about feeling insulted, but was chagrined to realize that she was wont to let practically any comment pass without truly getting angry anymore. _Love sucks. It doesn't even leave you your pride._ She mustered a nonchalant shrug and decided to answer lightly. "Why bother? It's not like any of this is vital. Who knows, I might even die before I get a chance to use any of this. If I'm lucky, some youma will make me kick the bucket _before_ tests start. Can you imagine wasting such a gorgeous day as today on math homework, then? Goodness, I'd be pissed if a monster got the drop on me after finals. But I'm such a klutz, I might not even do dying right!" Her pencil snapped in two as Mamoru suddenly grabbed her hand fiercely.

She turned, a startled gasp escaping from half-parted lips. "Mamor--"

"Don't! Don't. Talk. Like. That," he enunciated sharply from between gritted teeth. His gaze bore, seething hot, into her eyes. "I don't want to hear you say that. You are NOT going to die. Not soon, not EVER. I won't let you." _If something happened to her...I wouldn't survive it._

His grip tightened almost painfully and Usagi cried out softly. "Sat--Mamoru, you're hurting me." Immediately, his hold gentled. Still, he did not let go of her hand. "Mamoru, it was only a joke," she whispered.

His eyes shut briefly, breath coming in harsh gasps. "Don't joke like that, Usagi." For a second, she thought he might leave it at that, his hand slipping from hers in minute degrees. He seemed to be debating something within himself, however, and when he opened his eyes his grip was once more implacable. "Promise me. _**Promise me**_ you won't die."

Usagi felt her world dissolve into crazy circles. Surely he realized that what he was asking was illogical? She never knew when her luck would run out. If he only knew how often she had wanted to kiss her parents and even--urgh!--her little brother goodbye lest she not make it back...But she tried to stay positive, and she never went into a fight thinking she would fail. Still, though, she wasn't exactly the most graceful person. Sooner or later, she'd klutz out and it'd be too late. "But, I can't promise something like that! You've seen my fight, for goodness sake!"

"Promise me! By god, I'll protect you if that's what it takes, but you promise me!!"

Usagi shook her head wildly, pigtails flying back and forth, and wanted nothing more than to joke her way out of this solemn conversation. She brought her left hand to her right wrist, trying to pry Mamoru's fingers open, but made the mistake of looking once more into his eyes. They were desolate, desperate, panicked shards of ice. They were begging her to give her word, as if it alone could withstand whatever the future might bring. And they were lonely, so terribly lonely, the eyes of an orphaned child. Her own fingers stilled their vain work, settling warmly over his hand, instead.

"I promise."

His head dropped, hair shielding his eyes. Briefly his fingers tangled with her own before he carefully withdrew. "Thank you."

"You--You're welcome." What else could she say, after all?

Mamoru retreated from her, sitting back and breaking the intimate connection his emotion had forced on them both. He was embarrassed, almost ashamed, to look at her, yet strangely exultant. _She promised! She promised._ He leaned back against the trunk of the tree and closed his eyes. He felt her gaze on him for a moment, then heard the gentle sound of her pencil scratching the paper resume. He felt almost at peace now. Her silent company soothed him in a way he had never imagined she, of all people, was capable of doing. There were very few whom he could feel truly at ease with; Usagi seemed to be the very embodiment of them all. With her he was...happy.

The musical cadence of Usagi's beeper broke through his tranquility.

His eyes snapped open just as Usagi scrambled into a sitting position and flipped open her communicator. With one uncertain glance his way, she focused on a screen he could not see from his position.

"Yeah?"

"Usagi-chan," it was Minako's voice he heard, "of all the rotten luck. This is the last time I come buy soda by myself. At the convenience store...the big, the bad, the ugly."

"On my way. Hold it off and be careful, I'll call the others." Usagi broke the line, then opened mass lines and concisely told the other Senshi the location. By the time she had finished the task, Mamoru was already on his feet and holding out a hand to help her up.

"I guess it's sooner for a little link demonstration than we thought," he murmured.

Usagi nodded mutely, somewhat fazed at the thought of transforming in front of him. Together, they sprinted to a handy secluded area behind some bushes.

Mamoru gestured her forward. "You first."

"Okay," she muttered, inching her hand towards her broach. She was already reciting the henshin phrase when one thought seared through her head: _Oh my god! I'm naked!_

Mamoru had never known the process would be so involved...or so beautiful. And so --he gulped-- provocative. Her school uniform dissolved in a flash of light as multi-colored ribbons of power danced seductively over the tantalizing silhouette of her nude curves. He tried to avert his gaze but the flash was really over in a matter of milliseconds and, let's face it, nothing short of nuclear war would have been able to tear his attention away. But soon enough, the clingy white bodysuit had formed over her body and the ribbons of light had coalesced into the remaining costume. Entranced, Mamoru watched as the rush of power painted a beatific smile on Usagi's delicate features. She looked invincible. In one final, elegant flourish, Sailor Moon spun adroitly to a stop.

He was so awed, the hot surge of demand nearly pushed him to his knees in surprise. Whatever he had felt before, being so near to Usagi upon transformation called to him immediately on some basic level. Before he was even conscious of it, he'd produced a rose and flung it away from himself in an effort to break the near-painful pulling sensation inside his soul. With little theatrics, he found himself caped and masked.

Sailor Moon was beside him when he managed to regain his senses, air heaving in and out of his lungs. "Well," he joked, "that was certainly...educational."

Sailor Moon came very close to smacking him upside the head in her mortification, but stopped when she remembered the agonized look on his face after she'd finished transforming. Whatever he claimed he felt, she could hardly deny it now when she witnessed the power it held over him. It scared her, that she could elicit such a response. It scared her yet thrilled her, all the same. _Jeez, that's just sick._ She frowned at herself. _I don't care. At least in this, he is truly mine. Let's see his princess do that!_

"Are you okay?" she asked.

He waved off her concern and straightened, pushing aside the last dregs of vertigo. With one last confused, hidden look at each other, they dashed towards the fight's location.

* * *

Sailor Venus was not doing so well. First of all, an idiotic group of curious onlookers had gathered too close to the fight scene, and, second of all, the damn youma was taunting her. The coward just wouldn't stop and fight. It flitted from one end of the sidewalk to the other, its form indistinct but blubbery and huge. Venus had the impression of a Jell-O mold, but that was about it. It attacked, on occasion, by sending some sort of shock wave, but it was generally easy to escape from. The friggin' thing was just annoying. 

"Watch out!" she screamed as some moronic bystander decided he wanted a picture of the event and wandered too close to a crumbling wall. With an oath, she directed a crescent beam towards some falling debris and saved his foolish brain from decorating the street. "Get back!" she commanded everyone.

Too late she noticed a shock wave coming her way and braced herself for the impact. Instead, she was shoved roughly out of the way when Sailor Moon tackled her knees. "I'm here!"

"I noticed," grunted Venus and fought valiantly to not rub her bruised posterior in public.

"What's up?" questioned Moon, trying not to glance at the rooftop where Tuxedo Mask had taken his position. He kept the youma at bay by flinging roses in its path.

"Gelatin reject over there was playing with me. So far, all I can tell is that it produces shock waves."

"Ah. Did you give the speech?" Moon turned to Venus as she slipped off her tiara.

Venus flipped her a victory sign and Sailor Moon took that as an affirmative. Well, with that taken care: "Moon Tiara Magic!" The discus whistled sharply through the air and pierced the monster, then passed right through and returned to Sailor Moon's waiting hand, covered in greenish gook.

"Ewwww," sniffed Sailor Moon as a green blob dripped onto the pavement unceremoniously. The monster stood none the worse for wear. "That's just plain gross."

Out of nowhere, blasts of fire and lightning joined in blasting the Thing. It seemed to open its maw and swallow the attacks. Sailor Mars and Sailor Jupiter dropped down beside Venus and Moon to watch the power fizzle and disappear within the gelatinous mass.

"Well, hell," commented Jupiter.

"Yuck, what is that thing?" Mars could not conceal her disgust.

"Don't know, but it's pretty impermeable. Good for us that it's pretty weak, too." Sailor Mercury was welcomed instantly.

"Mercury! Do your computer thingy and tell us how to beat it," commanded Jupiter. The five watched the Thing with little concern. It seemed happy to just slime up against a building wall and...bubble.

"Yech."

The Thing didn't seem to be going anywhere. Sailor Moon could even see Tuxedo Mask get impatient as he watched from the roof and waited for Mercury's plan of action.

"Okay, we've got a glucose and water-based organism with some negative energy thrown in for solvability. It's more of a plasma, actually. Hmmm, it looks to be most susceptible to cold." Mercury looked up from her computer, clicking her visor off in the process. "Looks like this one is all mine."

Bringing up her arms, she flung a slew of freezing bubbles towards the Thing. It gurgled unhappily as the ice formed around its bulging structure, finally fizzling out and melting into the floor.

"Well," blinked Mercury, "that was certainly anticlimactic, wasn't it?"

The others nodded, not quite sure what anticlimactic meant, but more than happy to agree, nonetheless.

The Senshi were already walking away; Sailor Moon assumed Tuxedo Mask was already making his escape, when she turned to leave. At the last second, she stumbled roughly to one knee. Frowning, she looked down at her boot, which seemed to be stuck to the floor. She stood up and pulled. It stuck dutifully to some slime leftover.

"Hey guys! Wait up! I'm stuck!"

The four turned and giggled to see their leader look so forlorn. "Ah, Sailor Moon, and here I thought you might have actually escaped at least one battle without making a fool of yourself," teased Mars.

"Har har har. Comment appreciated, Pyro. Can one of you please help me out of this?"

Jupiter sauntered over to Sailor Moon and grabbed her around the waist, braced her feet, and pulled. Sailor Moon felt her ribs shift unhappily and yelped. Jupiter flew back, landing on her butt a few paces away.

"You really _are_ stuck."

"Your powers of deduction amaze me," grinned Sailor Moon at the truly befuddled expression on Jupiter's face. "Forget it. I guess I'm losing a boot today." She began to work her foot free from the confining boot, paying no attention to the burbling green junk encasing her feet.

Thus, she never noticed when it bubbled rapidly and surged around her like an enveloping cocoon.

"Sailor Moon!" shrieked Jupiter as she dove for her leader...

And bounced harmlessly of a solidified green structure. The other girls attacked it as one, punching and tearing at the structure with bare hands, even as Sailor Moon struggled feebly from within, rapidly losing oxygen.

* * *

to be continued... 

And the plot thickens!


	11. Chapter 11

Title: First Truths - Chapter 11

Author: Lilac Summers

Rated: PG

When originally I posted this, there was a year and a half lag between chapter 10 and chapter 11. That meant that poor Sailor Moon was stuck in J-ello for over a year! Imagine washing **_that _**out of your hair.

* * *

Chapter 11, Part A

Tuxedo Mask was already several blocks away, preparing himself for a long leap to the next rooftop, when his lungs seemed to cease functioning. He stumbled to the ground, grasping his throat and wheezing painfully, wondering if he were having some sort of asthma attack and fearing he was going to die of asphyxiation. He fought the blind panic that came with loss of air and slowly forced his lungs to work against the irrational sense that he was drowning. It was as he lay on the rough surface of the roof for the next minute, still gasping gratefully for air, that he realized those intense sensations of fear and suffocation were not his own, and that they had not abated.

A rage-filled oath exploded from his lips as he scrambled up onto his feet and returned the way he had come.

* * *

"Shabon Spray!" cried Mercury for the third time. Again, the freezing bubbles revolved around the green structure that had encapsulated Sailor Moon. Again, they crystallized and dissolved, useless, and the structure stood resolute. Jupiter and Mars grit their teeth and attacked it with punches and kicks that bounced harmlessly off.

"Come on, dammit, come on..." muttered Venus as she painstakingly lasered through the gelatinous mass with her crescent beam. It **was** cutting through, millimeter by millimeter, but at a pace that would never free Sailor Moon before her oxygen ran out.

Inside the structure that had become her prison, Sailor Moon struggled feebly to move her limbs. They refused to work against the binding green gel, and she realized belatedly that her aborted movements only served to eat up her oxygen faster. She froze then, staring at her friends through an emerald-tinted field. She could see them fighting for her, trying everything they could think of to get her out.

_They'll be too late_. It didn't even seem to bother her so much now, knowing that. Her lungs were burning terribly and it might just be a blessing to finally let go, finally stop feeling like jagged fire was climbing up her throat and clamoring for her to take a breath. But she couldn't do that; she couldn't just give up without a fight. If not for her, at least for her friends. And . . . for a promise made that morning.

_Promise me you won't die._

God, she didn't want to die. She gathered her failing energy and focused it past the pain in her lungs, past the burning in her throat and nose, the ringing in her ears, past all that and into the core of her heart that refused to stop beating in order to honor a promise given. It exploded from her in a burst of white light that threaded through her prison and emanated to the outside in the shape of a white aura.

* * *

The Senshi outside paused in their struggles to free their leader as the white glow exploded outward and then faded. They stood, certain in the power of their friend, waiting for the structure to crumble like so much dust. Then Sailor Moon would be standing there, indomitable as always, ready for her friends to fuss and cheer over her.

It didn't quite happen that way. The light faded and the mass of plasma shook as if from a slight breeze. Then nothing. The Senshi's gazes snapped up to the frozen face of their friend just in time to watch her eyes glaze over and then shut slowly and painfully against the weight of the gel.

* * *

Energy utterly spent, Sailor Moon could not fight against the overwhelming need to breathe. Without her consent, her control gave out and she inhaled deeply. Immediately, goo filled her nostrils, her throat, her lungs. Her body rebelled against the invasion and she tried to cough it up through lips that would not open. The agony, however, was blissfully short. Her vision clouded in instants and her body refused to work on the substance she had substituted for oxygen.

_Promise me you won't die._

She would miss them. She had never anticipated that five unlikely girls would become such fast friends in a few short months. They had always seemed so much closer than friends, even since the beginning. Almost like sisters.

Her eyes closed of their own volition. She didn't notice, as her world had gone black already.

She wished she had kissed her little brother goodbye that day. Her parents, too.

_I promise._

And, God help her, she would miss Mamoru most of all.

* * *

Shock held Mars immobile a second longer before a keening wail broke from her lips and she attacked the blob with unmatched ferocity. An instant later, the other three joined her, their sobbing breaths at counterpoint with the scrape of their feet and fists against the hard outer shell.

"Get back!" roared an agonized voice from somewhere above them and the sheer volume and pain in the tone caused the Senshi to step away. The instant they did, flashes of red struck the statue from every angle. The end result was a bizarre sculpture of lime-colored crystal and crimson roses.

The air still hummed with the vibration of the stems piercing the glass when Tuxedo Mask descended to the ground. He touched one red rose and it began to glow, then the one adjoining that one, and the next, and the next, until the roses glowed in symphony of red over green. He didn't quite know what he was doing. Something inside of him was telling him what he was doing was right, though, and it was the only part of him that was thinking with any semblance of logic at the moment, so he trusted it.

Behind him, the Senshi shifted uncertainly. But they clung to each other in fearful hope as the energy began to thrum and resonate. Mercury chanced a glance at her computer and squeezed her eyes tightly at the time. Three minutes had passed since Sailor Moon had become trapped.

Three minutes that seemed to span an eternity.

* * *

It was a tiny, insignificant fissure. Thread-thin, it spread from point of contact inward. In and of itself, it posed no threat. However, a hundreds of those tiny cracks did matter. Not much, but enough to slightly imbalance the impermeability of the structure.

However, driving wave upon wave of raging crimson energy through those tiny cracks _did _make a difference. Clashing atoms fought a violent sub-particle battle as white magic fought against black.

But the clincher was the weakening from the _inside_. The last spectacular discharge of energy from the imprisoned girl had weakened the internal composition of the plasma. Now, the residual white energy bonded with the red energy like one welcomes an old lover, and the subsequent pink scattered the black as if the black were some impertinent child.

* * *

"Tuxedo-san...Tuxedo-san, stop! It's worked!!"

Tuxedo Mask shrugged off the bothersome grip on his shoulder twice before the actual words broke through his concentration. His eyes snapped open to watch the roses, charred black from the sheer amount of energy, dissolve along with the green capsule. Already the Senshi were converging around it, waiting with bated breaths for their comrade to be freed.

Seconds later she was, and they set her on the ground immediately. Mercury moved closer without hesitation, only to be roughly pushed aside by a masculine form.

"Let me," commanded Tuxedo Mask, not noticing Mercury's shocked expression or Venus' restraining hand as Mercury moved to protest. Sailor Mercury subsided after Venus silently pointed to Tuxedo Mask's tormented expression.

"Let's give him some room," whispered Venus. For the first time, the girls noticed they were slowly being surrounded by curious and worried spectators. Children and adults alike fought to move closer and see what was happening to their favored superhero. With little else to do, the Senshi began to direct the milling people back.

Tuxedo Mask, for his part, was utterly focused on the still figure before him. Ignoring the slime that covered Sailor Moon from head to foot, he lifted one limp wrist and searched for a pulse. It was there, thready and indistinct, but there nonetheless, and he almost wept with the relief of it.

Moving on automatic now, with instructions that had been drilled into him by teachers and textbooks alike, he tilted her head back slightly. Nudging her blue-tinged lips open, he dipped his fingers into her mouth and cleared it of green goo before placing his mouth over hers. His other hand pinched her nose shut. His stomach rebelled slightly against the taste of the slime that had coated her lips and mouth, but he fought the nausea down and breathed deeply and steadily into her mouth. His free hand, placed securely over the upper swell of her chest, felt her chest expand in time with his breathing alone.

His life suddenly had one purpose: make her breathe. Minutes were no longer measured by seconds; they were measured by how many puffs of air he forced into her lungs. He became dimly aware of the Senshi standing behind him and Mercury counting off the seconds, and of the murmur of the crowd contained away from him.

One of the Senshi was crying openly. Someone in the crowd mentioned that an ambulance was on its way. Mercury muttered "four minutes" to herself, and still he breathed into the lips of a girl he'd met only weeks ago, because she would not breathe for herself.

_Damn you...damn you...you promised me. You promised me! Breathe!_

His eyes stung with frustrated tears but her chest stubbornly refused to rise and fall on its own.

Tearing his mouth away from hers in a sudden rage of despair and loss of control, he cradled her slippery face in his hands and screamed at her what his mind had been chanting.

"BREATHE, damn you!" His tears fell unheeded, drawing clear tracks down her green-tinted skin. "You promised me, now keep it!! BREATHE!!"

He crushed her mouth once more, exhaling and inhaling for her. Once, twice, three times. When he felt himself being pushed away, he struggled, thinking the Senshi were trying to pull him back. But no, two desperate hands were pushing at his _chest _and then the mouth beneath him was being wrenched away so Sailor Moon could turn on her side to retch unbelievable quantities of green gook.

The Senshi began to rush towards Sailor Moon, until the sudden burgeoning of the cheering crowd forced them to turn back and fight to keep the people away. They contented themselves with throwing teary-eyed, grateful glances at her as she gulped lung-full after greedy lung-full of air.

Tuxedo Mask was cradling her in his arms after supporting her as she threw up the slime that had filled her lungs. He held her tightly, watching her face as he rocked her. Still enamored with the novelty of breathing, she had failed to open her eyes. When she did, they were brilliant and blue and clear. She pierced him with a look and her smile spread, slow and sure, piquant and wry.

"You know, you didn't have to shout."

* * *

to be continued.

Note: The minutes that Sailor Mercury are counting down are important because in a case where a human suffers oxygen deprivation, going over 5 minutes and surviving would generally lead to a vegetative or coma state with a high chance of permanent brain damage. There is a bit of wiggle room because once she was released from the gel and Tuxedo Mask commenced mouth-to-mouth, she was no longer in a state of "anoxia" or complete oxygen deprivation. At that point, she was receiving some oxygen and so that adds about another 10-15 minutes before brain damage would occur. Just a little explanation in case someone's thinking, "Why the heck is Mercury just standing there counting?"


	12. Chapter 12

First Truths

By: Lilac Summers

Note: for those who have asked, this story obviously deviates from the anime and manga alike. The rainbow crystals are not necessarily important for this story, so I have made no mention of them. Sailor Venus has joined the group a bit earlier. Rei never had a thing for Mamoru. Hope that clears up any questions. Enjoy the madness!

_italics denote thoughts. usually. i just like them. aren't they pretty?_

* * *

Chapter 11b 

The door to the balcony slid open with a near-silent rasp, and Tuxedo Mask stepped inside. He looked down at the girl who was curled up and trembling in his arms. For the first time in the last ten minutes, he allowed himself to think --just think-- about what had happened today, what could have happened, and all the implications. . .and he started trembling himself. To keep the girl in his arms from noticing, he set her down on her own feet and patiently waited until her knees solidified beneath her.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice strangely neutral in cadence.

She didn't seem to notice, too embarrassed to look up. "I--I think I made a mess on your cape."

He leaned forward, not quite sure he'd heard correctly. "What?"

"Ithrewupalloveryourcape," she muttered, blushing beneath the green coating of goo.

He blinked once, twice, before his trembling increased with the need to laugh and cry at the same time. "It's okay," he managed, "it'll be clean by the next transformation."

"Oh." She cast a discreet glance at him. His face and hands held traces of the slime that covered her completely, but, otherwise, his suit had taken the brunt of the punishment. She, however, was coated irreparably. She grimaced in distaste, wondering how he had even brought himself to touch her in all her icky splendor. Yet here she was, in this perfect apartment, wondering just what exactly he was thinking behind that perfectly composed face and knowing that at any moment the hysteria would hit and she did not want him to witness her weakness. Right now she was hanging on by sheer will alone but soon the whole event would catch up to her, as it always did when she came so close to death, and she would be a blubbering idiot.

It was not, she was sure, something his beloved princess would ever do, so she refused to further lower herself before his eyes.

"Umm, look, could I possibly borrow your shower? I really have to get rid of this junk," she asked.

_How can she be so calm when she came so damn close to dying?! How could she disregard her promise so easily!_ He raged internally.

"Sure," he replied calmly, no hint that inside of him something was _screaming. _He politely pointed towards the bathroom door.

"Thanks," murmured Sailor Moon and scurried into the room before it was too late. She slammed the door shut and locked it, then finally let her knees collapse so she could huddle on the floor, hugging her legs and shaking viciously as tremor after tremor wracked her frame. She gulped impulsively as her throat closed up, then gagged at the feeling of the slime that would _not_ disappear.

Suddenly, the most important thing was simply being clean again. She dropped her transformation and hurriedly took off her school uniform before it could become soiled by her own skin. Then she was in the shower, water turned up as hot as she could stand, and scrubbing furiously at the viscous gel that clung stubbornly to her skin. A flashback sent her reeling, forcing her to slam her palms against the cold tile walls as she staggered. The feeling of choking, of drowning, was a building pain that scalded her insides as her body consumed its last breath and then began to fight her for oxygen that was no longer there. It all came back to remind her how close she had come to dying.

One day she wouldn't be lucky enough to cheat death. Her parents and friends. . .she'd be lost to them all.

The sobbing followed. Secure that the sound of the shower would drown out her tears, she let herself slide down the tiled wall to weep her fears away.

* * *

Tuxedo Mask's fists clenched as he watched her walk away. He felt as though he was a hair's-breadth away from insanity, and she had just walked quietly into this bathroom as if it were any other day for her. 

Hell, maybe it was better this way. After all, why should he be so upset about her close call if she obviously had no problems dealing with it?

But the fact was, he had never been quite so frightened in his life. She had never come so close to dying before, that he knew of. And thank god he didn't, if this was what it felt like.

He released his transformation automatically and made his way to the kitchen to scrub his face and hands clean. The slime wouldn't come off. For some reason, this made him furious and he scrubbed harder until his hands began to ache and chafe against each other. He stopped abruptly, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, trying to regain control.

_It's alright. It's okay. She's safe. She's safe and it's over._

More collected now, he reached under the sink and brought out the dishwashing soap, pleasantly surprised to find out it cut through the plasma easily. If he had had so much trouble washing off just the small bit of slime he had been coated with, he could well imagine how difficult it must be for Usagi to do the same. With that thought in mind, he took the detergent towards the bathroom, his hand poised to knock and offer her the use of it.

And that's when he heard her. The sound was muffled by the roar of the running water, but it was unmistakable and pierced through his surface calm as easily as a steel-tipped arrow pierces flesh. She was sobbing--ugly, harsh sounds that seemed torn from the bottom of her soul.

His hand automatically reached for the doorknob before he pulled away, flattening his hand over the cool wood of the door, instead. If she had wanted his comfort, she would not have barricaded herself in the bathroom.

Obviously, whatever she sought, it was not from him. So he lowered his head to the rough surface of the wood as his shoulders tightened with each sound of distress that came from within the room, and his frustration grew exponentially. He did not notice that tears had begun to run down his own cheeks in accompaniment to her own.

* * *

A considerably cleaner Usagi emerged from the bathroom some thirty minutes later, dressed in her relatively clean school uniform and with her hair hanging in a tangled wet mass down her back. Mamoru, watching her silently from where he waited on the living room couch, could only marvel at how bright and defenseless she looked. 

The illogical rage that had been simmering inside him for the past half-hour grew a little brighter.

Usagi was more than a little disconcerted to find that the first thing she saw upon exiting her sanctuary was a disturbingly intent Mamoru. Over the past half-hour she had struggled to tuck her close call into a safe niche in her mind, where it joined all the other could-have-beens and close-enoughs. In her own simple way she had come to terms with her near-death experience. Not because it was "okay," but because there was no other choice left; she had to keep fighting and this was the price all warriors paid. The conclusion had left her feeling stable and centered.

_Heck, I've lived to eat and sleep another day_. The thought had first sprung up as her last tears fell in the shower, and had made her smile. She had finally managed to revert to her unnaturally cheerful self. So when she exited the bathroom, her first instinct was to send a sunny smile Mamoru's way.

Mamoru's hand tightened around the cup of hot tea he held, and his mouth thinned.

Usagi stopped in her leisurely walk towards the couch and realized that, for some reason or another, her smile had displeased her host.

However, not one to be daunted easily, she refused to let the smile slip and walked coolly past the couch. When she reached the front door, she set down the shoes she carried in one hand and turned to face Mamoru. She had not intended to leave so abruptly, but some sense of self-preservation told her it was better to get out now while the getting was good.

"Mamoru-san, I can't tell you how much I appreciate everything," she began.

Mamoru's frown deepened just the tiniest fraction.

Noticing this, Usagi hurried on as she edged towards the door and tried to slip her feet into her shoes all at the same time. "Yes, well, thanks for the shower and . . .and saving my life and all, but I really must be going and you know how it is when you've got school the next day and--"

"Odango.'' His voice was satiny-smooth and laced with some undertone that scared the heebie-jeebies out of her.

Usagi paused, one foot safely ensconced in a shoe and the other foot bare. That had _not_ sounded like an endearment.

"Er. . .is there something I can do for you, Satan?" She stabbed her bare foot at the ground blindly, searching for her other shoe as her hands groped behind her for the doorknob. Deeply engrained survival instincts were screaming at her: 'head for the hills, Usagi-chan! Head for the hills and don't look back!'

"Odango, come here."

Usagi's heart performed a triple lutz and then promptly plummeted into her stomach. 'Don't do it! Don't do it!' screamed Self Preservation.

"I-I think I should be getting home."

Mamoru's emotions were raging dangerously close to out-of-control and he didn't like it; he didn't like it one bit. After a lifetime of cool composure, he suddenly felt as if a door had been flung wide and what he found inside was a messy, tangled, writhing ball of emotions that left him feeling like an irrational fool. And he didn't like the panicked look in Odango's eyes, either, as if he were some kind of beast of prey.

But he was so angry! So angry because. . .because. . .he didn't know. He didn't know why he felt angry and frustrated and scared. Okay, so he was scared. He was scared that all his control had disappeared as soon as she had walked out of the bathroom looking so damnably fragile.

Mamoru sighed, scrubbed his hands over his face, and then raised slightly calmer eyes to Usagi, who seemed ready to bolt out of the apartment. "I was just wondering if you would like something to eat before you left."

Usagi blinked as her mind went blank and her stomach shifted into overdrive. Self Preservation sobbed uncontrollably for a few moments, realizing that the good battle had been lost, and wished Usagi a fond adieu.

_See? The man just wanted to give you a nice, hot meal. How sweet. How altruistic. And here you thought he was going to jump you. . .or __something._ It would be impolite to refuse a meal, wouldn't it? Usagi rationalized away until she felt comfortably secure with her decision to ignore all warning signs and stay longer.

"Wellllllll, I suppose I could stay just a little bit longer," conceded Usagi, abandoning her shoes by the door and stepping back into the living area.

Mamoru's fists, hidden from her gaze by a pile of cushions, unclenched slowly. Okay, he could deal with his feelings now. So maybe he'd gone a little overboard there on the emotional scale when he heard her crying. So maybe he felt that, as long as she was here with him, she would be safe. They were natural reactions, right? He would have been equally concerned had the same incident occurred to any other friend, right?

The couple adjourned to the kitchen and Usagi sat down at the table as Mamoru began to rummage around through the cupboards.

"So," she began, drumming her fingers idly on the table, "this apartment's really nice." He kept the place spotless and tastefully decorated. She was quite surprised, actually. "I thought you'd live in a pigsty, Satan. Aren't you snooty, upper-class boys supposed to be decadent?" she teased.

Mamoru rolled his shoulders to loosen his knotted muscles and relaxed as the heavy atmosphere eased from the room. He set water to boil and then turned to face his guest, a smile lurking around his lips. "I stashed my harem in the bedroom. They won't come out until you leave."

She wrinkled her nose at him. "I doubt your collection of blow-up dolls can walk by themselves, anyway."

He stared at her, scandalized, for a little more than a second, then threw back his head and laughed. "Touché," he managed. "And here I thought you were this innocent schoolgirl, Odango. Apparently not."

"What?!" she sputtered, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly like a landed fish.

He turned back to add the noodles into the boiling water, still shaking with laughter. This was good. This was comfortable. This was footing that he was familiar with; no messy emotions were going to get in the way here.

"And, you can cook," Usagi drawled. "Will wonders never cease?" She left the table to saunter towards the stove and take a peak at what he was preparing. "Instant ramen. Satan, you shouldn't have. Really," she deadpanned.

He cast a glance over his shoulder to find her peering at the pot dubiously. "Don't knock it, Odango. It's all I had in the cupboard. I was going to go grocery shopping tonight."

Usagi hummed disapprovingly. "Well, at least I had a good lunch at school today. Imagine if my last meal had been instant ramen? How depressing. I'll tell you one thing, I'm turned off lime Jell-O for life."

The shoulder she was leaning against tensed hard as rock. She looked up to see that Mamoru's face had stilled into a mask of granite, his hands frozen in the task of stirring the noodles. Somehow, she had royally stuck her foot in her mouth, and she didn't know how. Whatever she had said, it had caused the tension to seep back between them like a brick wall.

The spoon clattered from Mamoru's hands and Usagi jumped at the sudden sound. The fine hairs on her arms and the back of her neck rose as the atmosphere between them grew heavy with the unnamed emotions that rolled off Mamoru's body like a nervous heat. She stumbled back, away from him with the whole-hearted intent of running away from the apartment, but his hand shot out to stop her, gripping her wrist.

"You promised, Usagi. You promised and. . .and you broke it."

His whisper was harsh and accusing. She recoiled from it physically, flinching at the reminder. Tugging at her wrist ineffectually, she strove to lighten the conversation, feeling horribly inadequate for dealing with such seriousness. "Do I look dead to you? If so, death is vastly overrated. So I cut it a little close, I didn't **break** the promise."

His hand tightened on her wrist and he turned violently to face her.

"Why do you have to joke about this? Why do you have to try to lighten it!? This is serious! You almost died, **again**!"

"How do you want me to deal with it, then? So I almost died. . .it happens, Mamoru-san. I'm okay with it!"

His eyes narrowed on her face, blue crystallizing into opaque pinpricks of ice. "You are not okay with it! I heard you in the bathroom, Usagi. What's more, I felt it."

Her face bled of color and a tiny, pained cry escaped from her lips.

"You--you felt. . .you felt me. . . I don't understand."

"I felt the goo oozing into your throat. I felt your lungs burning and your mind fading and then I," he paused, fighting the images in his head, but then forged ruthlessly forward, "I felt you giving up. I felt you try to leave m--us! AND YOU HAD PROMISED!"

She tore away from him, small hands outstretched before her as if to ward him off. "No--no, that's not fair. You shouldn't have had to go through that." Tears began to slide down her face. "I understand now, why you wanted that promise. I didn't get it before, but now I do. God, you must hate me for making you experience that. I'm so sorry. . . so sorry."

She turned and fled towards the door as he stood staring at her, incomprehension dulling his mind. Slowly it occurred to him that she had it all wrong, that she had his motives all wrong.

He chased after her and caught her as she was trying to force her feet into her shoes, swinging her around and holding tight as she clawed at his hands. "NO! No, that's not--" he tried to explain, but she was crying loudly and apologizing repeatedly over his voice.

"No wonder you were so angry when I walked out of the bath! I promise, I would break the link if I could. You should stay away from me. Drowning, _**dying**, _that feeling was horrible! Horrible, and you . . .you had to feel it all just cuz I was clumsy and stupid and . . . and when we find the Princess I'm sure she'll know how to make it so you can be rid of me and never have to--God, I'm sorry!"

"NO! Dammit, listen to me!" He shook her slightly and her head snapped back to look at him as the tears continued to paint salty streaks down her cheeks. "I don't care about any of that!"

"How couldn't you care? You should never have had to feel any of that pain! Never!" she cried vehemently until he cut her off with a sharp motion of his head.

"The pain means nothing to me. I just want you safe! I thank God for that link, that connection I have to you. I was angry because you almost left **me**! DAMNIT!" His head dropped down and he rested his forehead against hers, shutting his eyes tightly. "Damnit," he repeated, quietly. "What have you done to me? Why isn't anything simple anymore? I can't . . . I can't stand seeing you hurt."

The silence was so heavy it was almost hard to breathe, hard to think over it. _**What** did he say? Does he mean..._ She raised trembling hands to his face, daring to hope . . . Could it be that he had begun to love her? God, it was almost too much to hope for, but her heart was thumping wildly in her chest and a field of butterflies was performing an aerial ballet in her stomach and maybe, maybe for the first time in her life, Tsukino Usagi would find the person who could fill that part of her that felt unnaturally empty.

She ran sensitive fingertips over the strong line of his jaw, the soft fullness of his lips, to settle on the high curve of his cheekbones and draw his face slightly back so she could gaze at him fully. And then she laid her heart bare.

"I love you. I . . . I think I've always loved you. Sailor Moon fell in love with Tuxedo Mask and I fell in love with you and, well," she laughed a little despairingly. "Then Sailor Moon fell in love with you and I fell in love with Tuxedo Mask and everything became a hopeless tangle. But, in the end, it's all me and it's all you. I love you so much it hurts me."

His hands dropped from her shoulders like lead weights to hang heavy and numb at his sides. He was quite positive that his heart stopped beating altogether for an amount of time that couldn't possibly be healthy, and then it began to beat double-time in an attempt to make up for the lapse.

Never, in his wildest dreams, had he allowed himself to believe this golden one would love him so utterly and without reservations. Now she stood there, her hands cool and gentle against his face and her soft blue eyes becoming ever more uncertain as he stayed mute in the face of her declaration.

And the one thing he was sure of was that he was terrified. He didn't know what to do with such a love. He had grown up without love; he didn't know how to love. The only assurance that had remained constants were the dreams of his princess, dreams he had been having for as long as he could remember. She would understand him. Only she would know why he was the way he was, and would realize his limitations and love him anyway. It was so much safer, after all, to love a dream; there was no one to disappoint in the end.

"I love," he began, then had the words seize in his throat, an invisible fist of uncertainty choking him as everything within him seemed to rebel at the words he was choosing to speak. "I love the princess. I'm sorry, but I can't give you what you want, Odango. It's always been the princess. I do care for you, Odango, it's not that--"

This time it was she who cut him off with an abrupt shake of her head as she slowly removed her hands from his face. Her smile didn't falter, but the light in her eyes dimmed into a cloudy sea of wetness.

Something vital within him died with that look. It was like being offered the sun after living in the dark, only to find out you had been blind all along. He was like that; he did not have the capacity to love. Somewhere along the way he had forgotten how.

She stepped away from him, both physically and spiritually. He felt it, felt her draw into herself, and ached at the sudden isolation. He had not realized that he had come to depend on his subconscious link so much--that he had come to depend on her.

"I understand," she was saying quietly. "But I had to let you know, anyway. I guess I hoped . . . well, it doesn't matter anymore."

She turned her back to him and reached for the door. Her hair had dried in a tangle of platinum and golden strands that swept to the floor, and she wore its splendor like a cape.

"I hope you find her, Mamoru-san. And I hope she is everything you want her--need her--to be. You will be happy together." And she walked out.

* * *

to be continued 


	13. Chapter 13

First Truths--Part 13

By: Lilac Summers

Rated: PG

A continued "thank you" to those of you who are reveiwing and letting me know what you think, or how you feel.

_italics indicate thought, usually._

* * *

Chapter 13 

2 weeks later

No one could say that Usagi was sad. She wasn't, not really. She laughed and joked and klutzed out like she usually did. But somehow, she was...different. Her school-friends really didn't know what it was: maybe a certain shade to her eyes, or the way it took her a little longer to react to their teasing, as if she had to weigh whether answering back was worth the effort, or the fact that she never finished her lunch anymore. That was the biggest clue of all, of course, because never in the great history of Tsukino Usagi's life had she not finished her lunch. Had it been a one-time occurrence, it could be attributed to some freak chance...but two weeks straight?! Inconceivable!

Sometimes her classmates would catch her looking down at her desk, doing nothing in particular. She didn't take notes, nor sleep through class, nor try to sneak her lunch out. She just sat. Silent. On one occasion, Miss Haruna had called her name three times with no reaction forthcoming. Irritated, she'd stepped up to Usagi's desk and demanded her attention. And Usagi had simply lifted her face and Miss Haruna stumbled back in surprise for surely that composed, quiet face could not be Usagi's. Her eyes were opaque, her gaze listless, and her voice...

"Yes, Miss Haruna?"

That's what Usagi had said, with no theatrics and no wailing and no "I wasn't doing anything, honest!" Just that quiet "Yes, Miss Haruna" as if she were asking the time to some stranger on the street. Miss Haruna had had nothing to say to that quiet voice. What could she demand, after all? Miracle of miracles, Usagi had been bringing in her homework all week! So whereas before she would have scolded her for not paying attention, this time she just shook her head slightly and mumbled an "excuse me, Usagi," as if _she _were the guilty student caught daydreaming. She'd stepped away and let Usagi be for the simple reason that that quiet girl who stared at her desk was not Usagi. It couldn't be.

If anyone had asked, she would have denied it vehemently but, truth was, Miss Haruna wanted the old Usagi back.

And the other Senshi knew, of course, though they didn't say anything. They knew she was simply going through the motions of living, but that, really, no one was home. A part of Usagi, the part that dazzled strangers and made friends out of enemies, had been left behind.

Usagi, deciding to give her love, had given it completely. And come hell or high water, she could not, would not take it back for herself. That kind of love, Minako had whispered to her silent friends, can never be reclaimed...it's a once-in-a-lifetime kind of deal.

So the Senshi worried, and fretted, and cursed, because they knew exactly to whom Usagi had given that vital part of herself, and who had not had the tiniest bit of sense to accept it.

Chiba Mamoru, idiot extraordinaire.

* * *

It might have made them feel a bit better to know that that selfsame idiot extraordinaire had not been having an easy time of it, either. He haunted his apartment like a specter, restlessly moving from kitchen to couch to bedroom, never settling in one place. 

His princess wouldn't come. Since Usagi had walked out the door, leaving him feeling as if a semi truck had gleefully driven over him, his dream princess had refused to make an appearance at night. He no longer dreamt and, so, he no longer slept. His sleep was even lonelier than his life, so why bother? And it hurt so very much, this betrayal from his princess.

On the fourth night of dreamlessness, he'd stormed out into his balcony, raised his head to the moon, and demanded an explanation.

"Why?!" he'd screamed, uncaring of his neighbors. "Why won't you come? I gave up everything for you. I gave up...I gave **_her_** up for you. You can't leave me now, do you understand? DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!"

He'd damned her, and broken a pot of perfect sanguine-red rosebuds with his bare hands, raging until he'd finally dragged himself back inside with his bloody hands and wondered if he'd been cursing his princess or himself.

* * *

Ten days later, both princess and schoolgirl continued to avoid him. He never ran into Usagi on his way to classes anymore. She had either started getting to school earlier, or had taken another route. On the occasion when a youma had popped up, Sailor Moon thanked him politely for helping, inquired after his health, then slipped away like a shadow the moment he had looked away. 

This very afternoon, she evaded him when he walked into the Crown Arcade. He stepped inside and caught sight of her at the Sailor V game. Her back was to him and, as he watched, her shoulders had tensed, sensing his gaze. She'd risen from her seat, picked up her satchel, and then turned to face him. He could read nothing from her face, could make out no differences in her demeanor other than that disquieting stillness. She'd nodded at him in greeting and wordlessly left the arcade through the far exit, leaving him with his fists and jaw clenched.

It was a peculiar feeling, as if everything within him was pulsing at different times, and he was walking through quicksand to reach where she had stood. He stopped at her vacant seat at the Sailor V game just in time to watch her player die; the little digitized Sailor V seemed to glare up at him accusingly as the boss got the better of her. Only after the "GAME OVER" flahsed on the screen did he realize she'd left the arcade mid-game and, it seemed, with the highest score anyone had ever gotten. The "winner's score" box popped up then, cursor blinking rapidly in cadence with his thoughts, that ran along the lines of "idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot." He softly keyed in "Usa" in the three spaces, and walked out to his solitary apartment.

* * *

Her hands were shaking. 

Usagi realized this when she finally reached her street after having run from the arcade. Her hands were trembling and her heart was thudding painfully. Every time she saw him, it hurt more. Whoever had said that time healed all wounds was a moron. They'd obviously never had the dubious honor of having their soul jerked out, ripped to shreds, and then unceremoniously shoved back into their bodies, as if they were supposed to continue living with it.

She had done what "fate" wanted of her. She had picked up the pen, hadn't she? She had gone out and fought night after night until her pathetic grades got even more pathetic, until she'd been grounded so the most she was allowed to do at home was sleep, eat, and do homework. Naru wondered why she never spent time with her anymore. And for what? So she could put her life on the line and have it all come to nothing when the one person she wanted, the one person she needed, threw her love back in her face? Fate couldn't be so cruel, could it?

Well, it turned out that it could.

God, he'd looked so gorgeous. She sighed, bringing cold hands to her face. She'd known the instant he'd stepped into the arcade. It didn't matter that she'd had her back to the door, she had felt him walk in. Every cell in her body had vibrated, an odd sort of resonance that informed her he was there and watching her. World and life forgotten, she'd turned to catch his gaze.

There he had stood, the exemplarary brooding hero. It seemed as though he hadn't slept, or lost some weight, or something that made his eyes so dark and intense, the chiseled planes and angles of his face more accentuated and only serving to highlight how handsome he was. And there was sadness and maybe...regret?...as he looked at her. She hadn't been able to stand it--had been unwilling to stay to figure it out--and had left before her feelings overwhelmed her. Her heart was beating in tandem with her thoughts, a beat for every word:

he's not yours he's not yours he's not yours he's not yours.

* * *

The apartment was silent and dark when Mamoru walked in, just as he'd left it. If he had been paying any sort of attention he might have noticed the gentle breeze of evening air that entered through open balcony doors. Of course, he had other, Odangoed things on his mind, so he paid no attention. 

His first inkling that something was wrong came when he caught a whiff of perfume in his decidedly not-supposed-to-be perfumed apartment. He whirled around to face a shadowy corner, battle senses humming. He dropped into a defensive stance, wary to transform lest it be nothing more than burglars and he inadvertently reveal his identity.

Feminine-smelling burglars, but burglars nonetheless.

A faint sound alerted him to an attack, and he spun and lashed out with a lethal hit to strike...nothing. His mind was barely registering this impossible miss as a slew of freezing fog appeared out of nowhere. He was instantly blinded, his direction hopelessly scrambled, as he caught another tiny sound behind him and felt the rush of displaced air. He whirled once more, but it was too late.

His world went black.

* * *

"Is he awake yet?" 

"No, not yet."

"Jeez, how hard did you hit him?"

"How was I supposed to know he wouldn't put up a fight with those roses of his? Just **wham**, down like a stone."

"Still, what if there's brain damage?"

"Who'll tell the difference? He can't be dumber than he already is."

Mamoru opened his eyes on that uncomplimentary note. He had expected thieves at the least, Negaverse generals at the worst. He did not expect two worried blue eyes peering back at him from behind a visor. He jerked his head back in surprise and winced when he made hard contact with the back of a chair.

"He's awake, thank the heavens."

"About damn time."

Now, at least, he was awake enough to recognize the voices as female. He cautiously opened his eyes again, working around the pounding in the back of his head, and concentrated.

Blue, red, green, and yellow. Or, more significantly, Mercury, Mars, Jupiter, and Venus. He groaned, and the sound had nothing to do with the pain in his head.

"Hiya. Happy to see us?" said the one in yellow.

A growled epithet was answer enough, as he surged to his feet to confront them. Or, tried to surge to his feet before he realized with baffled outrage that they had actually had the gall to TIE HIM TO A CHAIR! The following curses really weren't reserved for polite society.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!" he roared, fully expecting them to quiver in fear.

There was no quivering in sight. Mars stepped up to him and pushed his head back against the chair, as Mercury winced at the rough treatment. "Simmer down, Tuxie! We don't want your neighbors barging in here, now do we?"

Mamoru tried to breathe evenly through clenched teeth. With careful movements he tested the strength of his bonds, stifling another curse when he found they were expertly tied, the rope made out of thickly-woven nylon and impossible to break. They'd also had the foresight to make sure his hands were bound at the wrist, with not enough leverage to allow him to use his roses.

Sailor Jupiter grinned at him, knowing full well what he was up to. "Don't even waste your time. I'm a woman of many talents, tying ropes being one of them."

Sailor Venus couldn't help but turn towards Mercury. "I don't even want to know why in the world she knows how to tie men up."

Mamoru ignored the comment, grinding his jaw so hard it was practically audible. "I'm quite sure you've mistaken me for someone else," he directed at his "captors."

Mars released his hair and stepped back impatiently. "Please, don't insult our intelligence. We know who you are, and you know why we're here."

"If that's the way you want it, Rei,Ami, Makoto, Minako." He pierced each with a look as he stated their names, gratified to see them shift nervously. Makoto acknowledged his statement with a curt nod, smiling grimly.

"So now that that is out in the open, why don't you tell me why you're here?"

It looked like Makoto wanted to hit him. She raised a fist, "You. don't. know. Why. We. Are. HERE?!"

Ami moaned and latched on desperately to Makoto's arm. "Remember, Mako-chan! Lawsuit! Lawsuit!"

Minako intercepted and waved the group away. It seemed like the idiot had to have some things explained to him. She grabbed a neighboring chair and dragged it in front of the bound man, straddling it so she faced him over her chair's back.

"Lookie here, Tuxie--"

"Mamoru," growled Mamoru, "MA-MO-RU. Not Tuxie!"

He didn't know what was more insulting, the dismissing little way she waved her hand in his face, or the placating way she said his name. "Right, Mamoru-san. Anyway, we're here to help you out."

"With what? And who asked for your help?"

Makoto leaned in, grinning at him evilly. "It's obvious that you are very sick, Mamoru-san."

"I am not sick," he denied.

"Yes you are," she informed him smugly. "Because ONLY A SICK MAN WOULD MAKE USAGI CRY!!!"

Rei and Ami held her back just in time to keep her from "curing" Mamoru with her fists. "Let me at him! Let me at him!" screeched Makoto.

"We are sooooo going to get sued for this," wailed Ami.

Minako valiantly ignored the other girls, finding the way Mamoru's face had turned miserably pale much more interesting. "It bothers you, doesn't it?" she asked sweetly.

"The idea of getting pounded on by that violent psycho? Yes."

"No, not that. I bothers you thinking that you made Usagi cry." She leaned back with a satisfied smile as every last trace of color bled from his face, his lips becoming a thin, tensed white line. He said nothing.

Enjoying herself, she scooted forward and whispered conspirationally, "She cries buckets, Luna tells us. She doesn't sleep, either. Something's not the same about her, and it's your fault. You are making her miserable. She's lost weight. She's whiling away to nothing while you sit here in your comfy apartment knowing that you're killing her. Slowly draining the life out of her--"

"Minako, stop," cut Ami in gently. "Don't torture him like that." They both turned to look at a dazed Mamoru, his head hanging low so his bangs shielded his eyes, his shoulders hunched in upon himself as though he were trying to make himself as small as possible. Minako caught the telltale glimmer of moisture on his cheeks and humphed.

"He shouldn't have done it if he isn't man enough to handle the consequences," she sniffed, abandoning her position on the chair.

Rei agilely jumped in to take her place. "My turn!" she announced. "Come on, buck up Mamoru, we're just getting started."

He raised his head and his eyes were furious behind the drying sheen of tears. "I don't need to hear any more of this! Do you think this is some game? Do you think this is funny?! I don't need a bunch of teenage girls barging into my apartment and trying to drill into my brain when you don't have a **clue** what is going on! So get. the. hell. out."

The girls were completely silent, troubled expressions on their faces as they stared at the bitter, stony man before them.

"Mamoru-san..." Rei began.

"Leave me alone!!"

"We can't!" shouted Makoto, frustrated. "Don't you see?! You screwed it up! You had it all lined up, and you friggin' screwed it up!"

Rei scampered out of Makoto's way as she advanced on Mamoru, wrenching his head back by the hair. "So you better fix it! You make Usagi happy again or we'll hurt you!"

"What do you know about it?" sneered Mamoru coldly, ignoring her grip on his hair.

Makoto's eyes narrowed into fierce glimmers of emerald as she curled her hand into a fist, arm tensing.

"Makoto! Makoto, dear god, not the face! She'll kill us if she sees it! I knew I shouldn't have let you guys do this!" bemoaned Ami. She tugged Makoto's arm away, standing between Mamoru and Makoto. "You're going to break him!"

Mamoru was not pleased at hearing himself referred to as some expensive toy. "Why, Ami-chan, so nice to know you care."

She rounded on him and seeing her sweet face twist with grim displeasure alarmed him more than Makoto's fist ever could. "I'm not doing it for you, half-wit," she scoffed. "I'm here for Usagi, because if something happens to you, she's the one that's going to be upset. So be glad I'm here, or Makoto would have turned you into paste and the only one to mourn would be Usagi."

Cowed, but unwilling to show it, Mamoru responded, "She's welcome to try."

Pain exploded in his stomach and he bent over, gagging. Finally gaining his breath, he turned a murderous gaze towards Makoto, only to find her looking as shocked as the rest of them.

"Ami-chan!" she squeaked.

Eyes widening, Mamoru turned to see Ami-chan with one dainty fist still upraised. "_That_," she announced, "Usagi won't see. And it's enough; no more harm comes to him." With one last angry look his way, she retreated to the other side of the room, effectively dismissing them all.

"Blue wanted to hog all the fun herself," muttered Minako.

Rei threw her hands up in the air. "Okay, all right, this is getting us nowhere. Mamoru-san, look," she sighed, taking back her seat, "you just answer one question, and answer it honestly, and we'll think about leaving you alone."

He raised one dark eyebrow. "You'll _think_ about leaving me alone," he repeated, unimpressed.

Rei shrugged her red-clad shoulders as if to say 'hey, what can ya do about it?'

"It's the best I can offer at this point," she said.

"You do realize that this is utterly insane? What would Usagi say if she found out you were doing this?" he pointed out reasonably.

He could have sworn little sparks flew from Rei's fingertips. "How would she possibly find out? _We_ aren't going to tell her; _you_ aren't going to tell her. What would you say, after all?" Here she stopped to drop her voice to a mimicking bass, bringing a hand to her chest dramatically. "Usagi, your four girlfriends tied me up to a chair and forced me to...forced meto...talk about my feelings! I feel so cheap!"

He bared his teeth as they dissolved into giggles again at his expense.

"So," she continued, after the hilarity died down, "here's my question. What did you do to Usagi, and what part of your brain died on you that caused you to make such a stupid mistake?"

"That's two questions," he muttered.

"Gee, there goes my aspiring career as a mathematician! Just answer the questions, smartass."

"All right!" he growled, clenching his fists. Then, more quietly, "All right, if you four will leave me alone."

The girls leaned forward as one, breaths abated.

He flushed at the scrutiny, none-too-proud at himself to begin with. "When I brought her back to my apartment that day, we had a little bit of an argument, don't" he forestalled, "ask about what. Anyway, in the end, she...she told me that she loved me and I..." He shut his eyes, remembering that look of pained betrayal on her face. His voice became a whisper.

"You what? What did you do?" breathed Ami.

"I told her," he said haltingly, as if he didn't quite believe it himself, "I told her that I loved the Princess".

A stunned silence enveloped the room. He rushed to defend himself. "But it's true! I couldn't lie to her, could I? I mean, I've dreamt of the Princess for as long as I can remember! I know she's out there, waiting for me. I can't---I can't suddenly let go of that, no matter what I may have thought I felt for Odango Atama. I can't!!"

"But---but," cut in Minako, unbelieving and confused. "That can't be right! No--how is that possible?! I felt it. I..." she looked at her friends beseechingly. "I couldn't have been wrong, could I?"

Makoto and Ami looked down at the floor, fearful that they had been wrong all along and scared that this wouldn't work out for Usagi, after all.

Rei looked as shell-shocked as the rest, until determination burned through her, fixing her face into a stoic mask. "No," she growled, "I refuse to believe this is how it ends for Usagi! It's not fair!"

She paced the carpet, knocking her fists on her temples as if to stimulate thought. There had to be a way to get to the bottom of it, to find out whom he was truly tied to. If only she could see what was truly inside him, what drove him. Dissect him and find where that muddled brain and even more muddled heart were leading.

She stopped in mid-step, a bewildered expression on her face. _It will be risky, but well worth it if it works_.

She advanced on a slumped Mamoru, who was too emotionally drained to care very much about what she had planned next. With little preamble she grabbed his head in her hands and forced him to meet her gaze. "This might hurt, Tuxie. Don't know; never done it before. If your brain starts to fry...well, it'll be too late for me to do anything about that, so...sorry."

And she gathered every drop of psychic power within her to dive into his psyche with as much grace as a four hundred-pound sumo wrestler performing a belly flop into a kiddy pool.

Mamoru's mouth opened in a silent scream as his eyes clenched shut, the tendons in his neck standing out as he strained against the intrusion.

Rei found herself falling through a dark tunnel and realized, a moment too late, that she did not yet have the power necessary to try this dangerous maneuver. She cried silently for help, and was rewarded with the feeling of a warm hand reaching out to her corporeal body. Suddenly, Minako's presence was there with her, gently nudging her with her knowledge of love and its secrets. In her mind she heard could hear Minako's wry voice, "I figured I could help you out with this one, you dumb blockhead. Don't mess with him too much; it's not nice."

Rei grimaced at the reprimand. With Minako's power aiding her, she had a little more control. She carefully avoided his memories, dreams, and secrets, guiltily aware she had no right to be here. Instead, she followed Minako's counsel and natural connection to love, and found herself clinging to a red thread that was interwoven into every part of his soul and beyond, casting the inky darkness around her into crimson. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Instantly she felt engulfed in peace and pain, joy and heartbreak, loss and gain, life and death, for millennia upon millennia upon millennia. It was immense. She knew that never, in all her lives, would she be able to understand the true scope of this connection.

She felt Minako's presence become buoyed with delight, and could only wonder at how the Senshi of Love must be experiencing this sight.

"Minako," she communicated, "can such a link be a love triangle? Can he love two people at once with this intensity?"

Minako's denial sounded loud and clear. "No way, Rei. This kind of link is...well, just short of a miracle. It goes beyond love to true and utter devotion. Unrequited love is a sickly, starving thing. Love divided is not true. Neither kind would forge a connection that transcends death."

Rei gulped, more than a little awed. "What do you mean?"

"She dies, he dies. She lives, he lives. Always the same, always together. They share a soul, Rei. You can't go deeper than that."

"Oh." After all, what else was there to say to a revelation like that? "Um, can you tell where it goes?"

Rei could just imagine Minako sighing through her teeth. "You want me to touch that?! Are you trying to kill me?"

"Can you are can't you?! I'm running out of time here, blondie."

"Sheesh, all right, all right. Gimme a minute." As the quiet settled around her, Rei got the foreboding sense that she knew what Minako was going to say next. "You're gonna have to touch it, Rei. I'm not actually 'there' in the sense that you are."

Well, damn. Rei had been afraid of that one. She approached the cord warily and gently placed a hand on it, muttering "the things I do for that meatball brains."

Rei's entire being went numb at contact, and she sensed Minako move through her to read the bond.

"My god, so much power, Rei! I--my god," Minako's voice was reverent. She was silent for what seemed like eons, then an invisible, psychic wind began to circulate around Rei, almost making her lose her grip on the link. She tightened her grip on the "string" reflexively, mentally gritting her teeth as power singed up her arms. Suddenly Minako's presence was very strong, hurtfully so, as she felt Minako's psyche take firm control of Rei's link.

Minako's voice returned, with a strange, lilting, singsong quality to it, as though she were reading a fairy tale.

**"A Prince and his Princess, separated. Death, then lost for so long. She was with him, through the darkness. He feels her cry sometimes. But he can't, _won't_ remember. She tried to tell him so many times, but it hurts. The fear is so strong. She's there... but he finally found her! He found her and he doesn't see! Why doesn't he _see_?! He is clinging to the past...has not found his future.** Oh, it hurts!"

Rei could feel Mianoko withdraw for a moment, weakened. "Minako?" There was silence. "Minako!"

Frightened, Rei prepared to let go, only to have Minako suddenly surge forward again. All the cells on Rei's body prickled with uncomfortable electricity. "Minako—"

**"He lost her once before. And now he's so alone--so much death in the end and he's afraid that . . . she could leave him again. He loves—he loves so strongly but he—- He loved the Princess. He loves Sailor Moon. He loves...**oh." Minako's voice was suddenly jolted into normalcy. "OH! God, god god god. Rei, get out. For grief's sake, get out!"

Rei's hand slipped away, stunned by Minako's fervor. Without questions she scurried back into her body by concentrating on the violent, almost hurtful grip Minako had on her real hand. She snapped out of her trance with a gasp for air, like a swimmer after the last lap, and heard Minako and Mamoru echo her as they snapped awake with her. Immediately she dropped her other hand from Mamoru's head as though he'd scalded her.

"Minako, wha--"

"How dare you," hissed Mamoru, nearly whispering, and was all the more dangerous in his quiet rage. The girls all flinched as if he'd screamed at them. "What made you think you have the right to barge into other people's psyches? I _told _you what you wanted. What else could you possibly find?!"

"He doesn't know," whispered Minako.

"Get out." His stillness was unnatural, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop. Slowly, fine tremors began to run up and down his body, until he was fairly vibrating with fury. "Get **out**!" he repeated, and the "out" seemed to resonate. The girls' finely-tuned sense of danger was shrieking at them to run fast and long.

The Senshi cowered away. Rei had gone too far, and they knew it. Worse, Minako seemed as though she'd seen a ghost, and was dangerously close to hyperventilating.

"What do we do?" murmured Makoto.

"Let's go. Please guys, let's go," urged Ami.

Minako stared at a seething Mamoru a few more seconds before slowly nodding her head. "Yes. He can't be told this. He needs to find his way. Let's go."

Makoto carefully edged behind Mamoru and began to work on the knots tying his hands. The other girls waited cautiously by the open balcony. When the last knot came lose she immediately turned and sprinted for the balcony, reaching the door none-too-soon as a rose pierced the wall by the door. With an "eep!" she jumped after her friends and disappeared from sight.

* * *

Makoto found the three others waiting for her in a nearby alley. Minako's somber expression kept them all quiet.

"Rei, we went too far," said Ami quietly.

Rei nodded, not quite repentant. "I know, but we had to find out. We had to settle it once and for all. Now we can tell Usagi that it truly isn't meant to be. Maybe she can move on."

"No," cut Minako in gently. "No, she can't."

"But he's soul-bonded, right? Just like you said before. I assume to the Princess?" argued Rei, confused with what she'd seen and heard.

"Yes, he loves the Princess with all his soul. But...but he loves Usagi too."

"But you said that type of bond couldn't be divided!" Rei accused, frustrated.

"It can't, Rei."

"But--" persisted Rei.

"Oh! Oh my god," Ami stared at Minako, almost hoping for a denial. Rei and Makoto just looked confused.

But no denial was forthcoming. "Rei," sighed Minako, "what did you see?"

"I saw a red cord. It was beautiful. And it led somewhere else."

"What did you feel?"

"Feel? I can't describe it! It was every intense emotion one person can have, all at once. Incredible. It was..." she shrugged her shoulders, "love?"

Minako nodded. "So I'm telling you again: he has always loved the Princess, but he will always love Usagi because..."

It was beginning to dawn on Makoto and Rei.

"Because," Makoto finished, "Usagi is the Princess."

Minako smiled.

* * *

In a dark apartment two streets down, a figure kneeled on the floor. His arms were wrapped around his body as he bent almost to the floor in his misery, a rose clenched in one hand.

* * *

Final chapter and epilogue to follow

I have to say, I was pretty fond of the "Ode to a Swivel Chair" that used to be included at the end of this chapter. Sadness.


	14. Chapter 14 & Epilogue

Title: First Truths

Author: Lilac Summers

Rated: G

So this is it. The end. As I'd mentioned previously, when I first wrote this, I went on a 2 year hiatus before posting the last chapter and epilogue. I've always thought that the difference in voice/mood/writing style is very apparent, due to the 2 year gap. Tell me what you think!

_italics signify thoughts. usually._

* * *

Chapter 14 

Most people do not frequent dark, deserted alleys when the sky is darkening. Most teenage girls avoid such places at all cost. Thus, finding four fourteen-year-old girls in such an alley is close to impossible. However, that evening any lucky passerby would have been treated to the sight of said fourteen year-old girls wearing verrrrry short sailor suits and dancing what looked to be an Irish jig.

Well, two were dancing, anyway.

"This is soooo cool! Oh yeah. Go girl, go girl, go girl!" Makoto chanted this refrain as she grabbed Minako and whirled her around in a dizzy circle before linking arms and indulging in a short round of dozy-do.

Minako's laugh rang out, girlishly high. "Isn't it?! All this time we've been searching and searching, and she's been in front of us all along! As a wise man once said, ask and thou shall conceive."

Ami managed to drop the silly grin that covered her face long enough to correct Minako's mistake. "That's 'ask and thou shall receive,' Minako. The other sounds like a...well, it's a completely different proposition." She slid down the wall to plunk down dreamily next to a nearly comatose Rei. "Wow, who would have ever expected?"

Rei blinked out of her stupor for an instant. "I've been calling the Princess a lazy meatball brains," she wailed. "I'll be the first to be beheaded when she comes into power!"

Ami patted her back consolingly as she watched Minako and Makoto sweep out of their version of a tango and try to dance a jitterbug. "Try" being the operative word.

"Now now, Rei-chan. Usagi wouldn't do that. At the most, she'll just sentence you to fifty lashes or something of that manner," she assured her friend.

Rei sniffled hopefully. "You think?"

Ami nodded, and Rei went back into shock.

A few minutes later, Makoto and Minako concluded their crazy little dance and collapsed in a fit of giggles to sit next to Ami and Rei.

"This is wild," breathed Makoto, pushing sweaty strands of hair off her forehead. "Usagi, of all people, a princess! Can you imagine her all royal and graceful? Minako-chan, if you weren't so sure about this, I'd claim you were high off something."

"High off looooove, my friends!" Minako grinned. "You guys shoulda seen it! It was amazing." She sighed dreamily, wrapping her arms around herself and wriggling giddily. "Lucky lucky lucky Usagi-chan. I hope I find a guy as gone on me as Mamoru is on her."

Rei's shock had worn off to a bearable level, and she nodded her agreement. "Amazing. Just incredible." Her own sigh seemed a mixture of joy, hope, and envy. "Finding out she's a princess and that she has a soul-mate, all in one fell swoop. Boy, are we ever gonna make her day." She smiled winsomely. "Think that we'll ever find our soul-mates?"

Minako jumped to her feet to pose in her trademark Sailor V stance. "Of course! Just you wait! We'll find them one day. And, until then, well...we're gonna have to go out with lots and lots of hot guys; leave no stone unturned!"

Ami blushed prettily as the others cheered Minako's inspirational speech. When the cheering died down, she decided to steer the conversation to slightly more important matters. "Okay, guys, what do we do now?"

Makoto seemed confused at this question. "What do you mean, 'what do we do now'? Simple: we tell Usagi she's the Princess, and that Mamoru's totally stupid-in-love with her. She tells Mamoru she's the Princess, he grovels nicely and buys her a big diamond. Presto! Instant happy ending with lots of little Usagis and Mamorus running around. We all live happily ever after, and die very old, rich, and lazy with a harem of gorgeous younger men at our feet!"

She fidgeted as the others stared. "Okay, so I improvised the ending just a bit."

Ami shook her head, dispelling the image Makoto had so skillfully painted. "We have to stop being silly for a second, guys."

Minako latched onto Ami's arm and shook vigorously. "No, Ami-chan, _we're_ silly. You just...aren't. Be silly, Ami-chan! Be Silly!!"

Rei wrenched Minako away from Ami, practically taking Ami's arm with her. "Give the girl some peace, Minako-chan! Ami's going to say something really smart, and complicate everything, and we've got to listen." She shot Ami a pessimistic look. "You are going to make this difficult, aren't you?"

"Sorry, guys, but it can't possibly be as simple as Makoto makes it sound."

Makoto threw her arms up in the air. "Well, why on earth not?! Jeeze louise, you'd think this was rocket science and not a simple case of tuxedoed super-hero loves/hates girl who happens to be another super-hero and also happens to be a princess without knowing it."

Ami cast Makoto a pointed look and Makoto deflated, grumbling as she sulkily folded her arms across her chest. "Well, it _could_ have been simple."

Rei shook her head, raven locks flying, and frowned in concentration. "So our problem here is what, exactly?"

Everyone turned expectant eyes to Ami, who shrunk under their gaze. "I don't know! I was just bringing it up. Goodness, I'm allergic to love letters. Love letters! How am I supposed to know about soul-bonds and all that?"

Everyone turned to look at Minako.

"Oh, so suddenly _I'm_ very important. Suuuure, turn to Ami for everything, but the minute a little love trouble comes up, I'm supposed to fix it all nice and tidy. 'Minako, read the link; Minako, find out who the soulmate is; Minako, figure out what to do!' Well, lemme tell you guys that I expect some respect from now on! That's right. R-E-S-P-E-C-T. And--"

Rei's hands inched towards the blonde's throat.

Minako belatedly noticed the murderous intent in Rei's demeanor and cut off her diatribe. "Kidding! Okay, so here's the deal: we can't interfere."

Ami's hands began to mimic Rei's. "'We can't interfere'?! We indulge in a little bit of delinquency by breaking into Mamoru's apartment, add on a little assault by tying him to a chair, delve into his soul, and you tell me 'we can't interfere'?! What do you call all that, then?!"

"I call that persuasion," stated Makoto. "Right, Minako?"

Minako nodded. "Right. Anyway, what I mean is that Mamoru has to figure his heart out by himself. He has to realize that he is in love with Usagi, and not only because she is the Princess. Do you understand?"

"Not really. Why does it matter? The Princess is Usagi," argued Makoto.

"No, Usagi is the Princess. There's a difference. The Princess is part of Usagi, but Usagi is much more than just the Princess. How would it be if Mamoru thought he only loved Usagi because she was the Princess? He'd feel as if he had no choice; as if he'd love anyone who happened to be the Princess. But that's not true. He fell in love with Usagi before he knew she was the Princess. The Princess is his past, Usagi is his present. He has to move on and understand that."

They nodded in agreement.

"What about Usagi?" asked Ami.

"That's different. She's come to grips with her feelings. I think Mamoru is having a hard time with it cuz he's not used to, well, feeling much. But Usagi...she's as open as sunshine. She accepted to love him for who he is, regardless of fate or soul-bonds or any such complications. I think we should tell her, to give her some hope to hold on to. We tell her that he loves her; he just doesn't know it yet," concluded Minako with a smug look on her face.

Rei leaned forward, peering at Minako suspiciously. "Minako?"

"Yeah?"

Rei squinted a little bit more, as if she were having trouble seeing. "Minako, when on earth did you get so darn smart?"

Minako grinned, right before she realized that that wasn't exactly a compliment. "Hey!"

* * *

Usagi was awoken by a repetitive tapping on her head. She opened bleary, tear-swollen eyes and looked around her darkened room for the source of the disturbance. 

tap tap tap tap

Her eyes crossed in the darkness in an attempt to see what kept hitting her forehead. Realizing that was useless, she reached up and grabbed the "thing" in mid-descent. It was warm and skinny. She frowned, and found that the thing was attached to a bigger thing. She followed that with her other arm and turned her head to the side. There, her sleep-clouded vision collided with a pair of impossibly wide, glittering eyes.

"Usagi-chaaaaaan," the monster called.

With an unrepentant, undignified shriek, Usagi bolted upright and dove for the light by the bed, switching it on. The light illuminated a surprised Minako-chan kneeling by her bed, blue eyes on level with Usagi's pillow. Confused, Usagi opened her other hand. Where minutes before she was sure she was gripping some monstrous tentacle, she found what she had captured was Minako's finger, caught in the act of tapping her on the forehead.

Usagi let go of Minako's hand and collapsed back in bed with a relieved, watery sigh. "Lord, Minako-chan. You scared the life out of me. What were you doing?"

Minako was carefully rubbing her abused finger, frowning slightly at a chipped nail, a casualty to the brief struggle.

"You killed my nail," accused Minako, "the index one, who never hurt a soul in her brief, shining life. And there is just _no_ way I can hide a chipped index nail." She sniffed, as if highly insulted. "And all I was trying to do was wake you up."

Usagi tried to scrub her eyes clear, knowing the proof of earlier tears was still on her face. The clock on her bedside read 9:30pm; she must have fallen asleep after she collapsed, fully dressed, on her bed. As a result, her school uniform was rumpled and twisted around her. She picked at the skirt with distaste. "Ha. Well, there's this handy-dandy new invention called a telephone. You pick it up and you can speak, actually _speak_ to people without having to break into their bedrooms and scare ten years off their lives."

Minako rose from her kneeling position by the bed and flounced down next to Usagi, chipped nail forgotten. She flashed Usagi a smile that was way too cheery for Usagi's current mood. "Nuh uh. This is way too good for a phone call. Get up, Usagi-chan. The girls and I have a surprise for you. We gotta go to Rei's."

"Now?"

"Uh-huh. Come on, get up!" urged Minako, pulling on Usagi's arm.

"Okay, okay," muttered Usagi. She wasn't in the mood to go out. She wanted to stay in her bed and huddle under the covers. Ever since that fateful day two weeks ago, she couldn't seem to stay warm. She couldn't seem to do a lot of things, actually. Something was just...missing. But Minako's face was too eager, and she didn't want to let her down. She knew her friends were worried about her. And if this foray meant she wouldn't have to worry about Minako sneaking back into her room, she'd grin and bear it.

She grabbed shoes from the closet to silently follow Minako out her bedroom window. With an ease born of long practice, they climbed from the roof beneath the window to the tree that stood sentinel beside the house, then shimmied down the trunk with little effort.

"Now what?" she asked, casting one cautious look at her house. The lights were burning in the family room, and she imagined her parents must be watching the nightly news.

"To the temple!" commanded Minako in pseudo-commando voice. Giggling, she grabbed Usagi's hand and cheerfully dragged her forward. "Trust me Usagi, this is gonna blow you away."

Usagi highly doubted that, but smiled at Minako anyway and followed when Minako broke into a quick run. As both were familiar with dashing madly down the streets whenever they were late, they made it to the Hikawa Temple in a matter of minutes.

Ami, Rei, and Makoto were chatting quietly in Rei's room, sprawled out comfortably on every available space. When Minako slid open the door with a noisy flourish, they quieted instantly, grinning hugely.

"All right," huffed and puffed Usagi, coming to a stop in front of them, "what are you four up to, and was it really necessary to drag me outside this late?"

The four looked back and forth between them. "You tell her," said Rei to Ami.

"I wouldn't do the story justice. You tell her, Minako-chan," responded Ami.

"I'm doing all the work! And I just don't even know where to begin..."

"I'll tell her. Sheesh, you ninnies!" announced Makoto, pushing Usagi down to sit on the bed. "Okay, Usagi-chan, now you're going to need to sit down for this."

"Yes," cut in Rei, "and we know it's going to take some time for you to understand what is going on, so feel free to ask questions. And," she added, eyes shimmering, "I bought you some of those cookies you like so much, the chocolate ones. You can have them all." Without waiting for a response, she shoved a cookie in Usagi's slack mouth.

Usagi sat there, cookie wedged in her mouth, staring dumbly at Rei. Rei decided further action was necessary and reached over, grabbed Usagi's lower jaw, and began to move it up and down, forcing Usagi to chew. "Yummy, aren't they? Ami wanted one, but I didn't let her have any. Because these cookies are only for super-special best friends. I _have_ told you that you're my very bestest friend, right?" She handed a bemused Usagi the rest of the cookies, beaming with saccharine sweetness as she then proceeded to plump up the pillow Usagi was leaning against.

Usagi choked, sputtered, then finally swallowed the half-masticated cookie down. "Oh my god...am I dying?" whispered Usagi, eyes suspiciously wet. "I'm dying, aren't I? Rei would never be so nice to me unless she knew I was dying." She started to sniffle.

Makoto smacked Rei upside the head. "Great going there, Rei-chan. Trying to get in some brownie points before she gets the honor of beheading you?"

Rei had the grace to blush as she batted Makoto's hand away from her head. "I have no clue what Makoto's talking about, Usagi-chan! She's lying. Talking crazy. Crazy!"

Usagi stared at Rei, frozen in terror. "She called me 'Usagi-chan'! She never calls me Usagi-chan!" She turned to Ami and asked in a tremulous voice, "What is it? Cancer? Leukemia? What?!"

"No, no, Usagi-chan! You're not dying; you're not even sick. This is all a misunderstanding, I promise you," Ami rushed to reassure her.

"What's to misunderstand? Rei doesn't shout at me, then gives me food, then calls me 'Usagi-chan.' If I'm not dying, why is she...Oh god, is that not Rei?! Is it a clone?!!" Before anyone could stop her, she grabbed a hunk of Rei's dark hair and pulled enthusiastically, testing to see if it was a wig.

"YEOWCH!" yelped Rei, grabbing at her hair in a tug-of-war with Usagi. "I'm not a clone, you clown! Usagi-chan, really, you need to--"

"Who are you, and what have you done with Rei-chan?!" demanded Usagi hotly of the so-called Rei.

"I _am_ Rei, you idiot!" yelled Rei.

"Prove it! Why were you so nice?!"

"Can't a girl be nice every now and then, ungrateful little--" began Rei.

"I knew it! You can't possibly be Rei; she'd never even _consider_ being nice!!" crowed Usagi, pulling more on Rei's hair in her triumph.

"Would too!"

"Would not!"

"Would too!!"

"Would NOT!!!"

"Why, I've never been so insult--!!"

"So why were you nice?!!" repeated Usagi, doggedly.

"Because--"

"Because why?!"

"BECAUSE YOU'RE THE PRINCESS!!" roared Rei.

"Because I'm..." Usagi released Rei's hair as her fingers went limp.

Ami closed her eyes in a prayer for patience. _So much for tact. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother._

Usagi stared at her friends for a second, before her knees gave out and she collapsed once more on the bed. She gazed, unseeing, at her hands where they'd fisted on her lap. Ami, Minako, Makoto, and Rei stood watching her, breaths held.

After what seemed like hours, Usagi raised clouded, pain-filled eyes. "That wasn't very funny, Rei," she whispered, then wrapped her arms around herself to ease the chill. "It wasn't very funny at all. If you guys thought this would be a good joke, I don't get it."

Rei was instantly contrite. _You've really blown it this time--_she thought sourly.

Makoto gathered her wits and sat down next to her friend, putting a consoling hand on Usagi's back. "Usagi-chan, forget what Rei said. Let's start at the beginning... We know about Mamoru-san."

Usagi's breath hissed out in sharp note of shame, cutting through her misery. "W-what?!"

"We found out about him almost at the same time you did, but we didn't want to force any confessions out of you," explained Ami quietly.

"Oh." Usagi began to pleat her skirt with nervous fingers, tears forgotten as she tried to read her friends' reactions. "Are...are you mad at me that I kept quiet so long?" She wouldn't be able to stand it if her friends deserted her, too. "I'm really sorry; really I am. I just didn't know how to bring it up without all of you getting more worried."

"We aren't mad at you, Usagi-chan," Makoto encouraged. "We just don't want you to handle this alone."

Usagi nodded, sniffling again against the effects of her sobbing. She'd begun to calm a little, realizing her friends couldn't have possibly known how their teasing of her "being the Princess" would hurt her. How could they know, after all, that Mamo-chan had chosen the Princess over Usagi?

"So I guess you guys just wanted to tease me," she managed through a watery smile. "I'm sorry I overreacted; I guess it was just bad timing."

The four other girls looked at each other nervously. After the grief their first admission had caused, they were scared to try again. When a few eternal seconds of pained silence passed, Ami could take it no longer.

"Okay, I'm gonna tell her all of it!" she announced.

Rei flushed, visions of bruised Mamorus and vengeful Princesses tap-dancing in her head. "_All_ of it, Ami?" she gulped.

"All of it! And I expect you guys to help," Ami cast a reproving glance at them.

Stalling, Rei searched for anything to derail the conversation, finally spying the forgotten tin of cookie and pouncing on it like a lifesaver. "Are--are you sure you don't want to wait for Usagi to eat a few more scrumptious, just-for-her cookies first?"

"No, Rei, I'm pretty sure she doesn't need you shoving more cookies in her mouth just now."

Rei deflated and hugged the cookies to her chest, making sure to scoot a little further away from Usagi in case she took the news of Rei torturing her soulmate a tad badly.

"Usagi-chan, we know you are in love with Mamoru, and that something . . . horrible happened two weeks ago." Ami stumbled at Usagi's shocked protest, then forged on. "Minako was able to sense the strong emotions between the two of you and, well, we couldn't stand seeing you so sad."

Minako cut in just as Usagi's mouth was opening to deliver a scathing lecture on the rights of privacy. "Wait Usagi-chan, hear us out! You're our friend and we couldn't let this go on!"

Usagi struggled against her instinctive defensiveness, knowing it would be futile to deny what was so obvious to her friends. "What did you guys do?" she queried, almost afraid of the answer.

Rei sauntered forward. "Don't you worry, Usagi. We handled everything very discreetly. We went into his apartment and then invited him to join us for a friendly discussion."

Ami narrowed her eyes at a sweating Rei. "Or, more likely, we sneaked into his apartment, I cast some fog, Makoto knocked him out, tied him to a chair, and we forced him to talk."

Usagi's eyes were as wide as saucers in part disbelief, horror, and guilty amusement. "You didn't!" she squeaked.

Rei liked her version of the event better. "If you wanna put it that way," she admitted.

"Oh!" Usagi clapped her hands over her mouth, trying to stifle a stunned, hysterical giggle. The next instant, her shock dissolved as the ramifications sank in and doubt crept in like a stealthy shadow. Her hands climbed from her mouth to her hair, tugging a blonde strand apprehensively as she strove to look nonchalant. "Did he...what did he say about me?" she whispered.

"Well..." Minako did not fail to notice that the other three had shut up like clams. It was obvious they expected her to handle this part of the confession. "To tell you the truth, Usagi-chan, it wasn't so much what he said than what he didn't say."

Usagi's expression became shuttered as she felt her insides freeze with dread. "Okay then, what _didn't_ he say, and how would you know?"

"Ehem. Actually, there's a funny story connected to that," trailed Minako, nervously scratching the back of her head. At Usagi's dark look, she dropped the act and cleared her throat again. "Okay, okay. But you gotta promise not to interrupt, no matter what I say!" she demanded.

Usagi nodded her consent, and Minako continued. "It began when REI-chan. . .see, REI was the one to come up with the idea."

Rei burned red with betrayal and vowed bloody murder against Minako, but remained silent. Minako swallowed compulsively. "Uh, she decided she could pretty much 'read' Mamoru's soul. She jumped in to decipher his feelings once I realized that Mamoru was someone's soulmate."

Usagi's vision spun in nauseating circles before focusing, the explanation of the procedure and the immense breach of privacy lost to her as she latched on to one word: 'soulmate.' Mamoru had a soulmate. How stupid could she have been to ever think she could compete against that? Any last vestige of hope crumbled sadly, leaving her breathless and weak.

"Someone's soulmate? Wh--" she paused, not sure she could handle knowing. But she had to know, had to know who it was that would take the hope away from her forever. "Who is it? Th--the Princess? It's the Princess, isn't it."

Minako stalled, eyes brilliant with knowledge, before nodding slowly.

Usagi took one last shaky breath before shutting her eyes against the biting blast of sorrow in her chest. "I knew it."

She felt nothing after that first sting; the chill she'd constantly felt had expanded to finally make her body completely numb. She experienced the oddest moment of being entirely disconnected from all her senses, until she realized it was because she had simply stopped inside. There was just nothing left, nothing that mattered. When someone grabbed her hand fiercely, she forced aching, dry eyes open. Minako was kneeling before her, smiling, of all things. Numb Usagi could only vaguely wonder why her friend was happy.

"But that's not all, Usagi-chan," Minako said. "You know where else that link led? It led to Sailor Moon...and to you."

Usagi watched Minako dully, her brain in a state much like fragile china, ready to shatter at the slightest pressure. She couldn't seem to understand what Minako had said.

"Do you hear me, Usagi-chan?" Minako insisted, gripping Usagi's hand tight enough to cut off circulation. "A link to YOU! Because Rei wasn't teasing you earlier; _you_ are the Princess!"

Her brain finally shattered. A wave of thoughts and emotions surged and crashed over her, sending her under. All at once feeling rushed back into her as she scurried to assimilate what Minako had said. It hurt, having the life forced back into you that way, so many emotions vying for attention. Foremost was that fleeting sense of hope, and she reached out and grasped it with trembling hands.

"I--I'm...you're saying I'm the Princess? And that he's **tied** to me?" asked Usagi slowly, her mind still working on overdrive in an attempt to catch up with what all that signified. Her thoughts were barely starting to arrange themselves into some semblance of order. But the words actually sunk in and echoed through her. _ He's tied to the Princess. I'm the Princess._ Shock overcame hope, then gave way to horrified comprehension. _He's **tied** to **me**. He has no choice._ She suddenly, fervently wished the numbness back.

"Baby, your blood's bluer than a drowned Smurf."

"Ewwww! Minako, that's gross! It doesn't even apply!" complained Makoto.

"Sure it does! See, when something drowns, it turns blue! And royalty has 'blue blood'! Soooooo, a drowned Smurf would be beyond blue, so Usagi is beyond royal. She's the friggin Princess!"

"We _get_ it, Minako-chan, it's just that it's hardly suitable!" said Rei.

"Guys...GUYS!" Ami waved her arms to draw their attention, "it doesn't even matter. Usagi's gone."

The all turned to stare at the spot on the bed where Usagi should have been sitting. She'd used their distraction with the finer points of Minako's analogy as an opportunity to slip away.

"What a way to screw things up." Rei looked at Minako accusingly. "Drowned Smurfs, Minako?"

"Honestly!"

* * *

She stood outside his apartment building in the cooling night, her chest heaving from both emotion and exertion. She'd run the entire way, her feet following some preordained path. Now her heart beat a wild tattoo against her chest, and she clasped her hands over it to contain it. 

Usagi still couldn't quite believe it. She, a princess? It was laughable. Usagi may have been many things, but a princess she was not.

Elegant. Royal. Wise. Demure. A princess, Usagi told herself, had to be all of those, and poor Usagi couldn't even be one. It's not that she doubted Minako's finding, she just couldn't understand how it could be that _she_ was the Princess. THE Princess. _Mamoru's Princess._

She dropped down onto a low wall surrounding some shrubs, and craned her neck to look up at his darkened window. The insidious hope that had surged up in the moment when she realized Mamoru was tied to her, and not his faceless Princess, had instantly wilted as reality seeped in. The joy that had followed close on the heels of knowing he was hers had died, too. Because he wasn't hers. He was the Princess'. He was in love with what he thought the Princess to be, and what Usagi couldn't be, whether the title was hers or not.

She may not have understood what it meant to be the Princess. She may not have fathomed what that responsibility would mean. She may not have known how it was possible that she was the Princess. But...she knew what it would mean to Mamoru. It would mean that he would have to love her for what he thought she was.

And she would never be able to live with that.

She wished Minako had never found out. Usagi understood what her friends had tried to do, and was grateful to them for caring so much. How could they have known that their plan would backfire? How could they have known that she would have rather stayed ignorant? She wished she'd never known. She would have rather spent her entire life looking for a Princess that didn't exist, and believing that Mamoru would someday find this Princess, too. Now, neither she nor he had anything. She refused to bind Mamoru to herself with a tie that was based on a lie.

Mamoru would never be able to find his princess, because she had died long ago.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered into the sudden wind that swirled around her. "Now you'll never find her. I've lost you completely."

She pressed her hands against her eyes, trying to dispel his face, his voice, his kiss from her mind. _If only you had loved me. If only you didn't care, like I don't care, about what form we take. If only you could have loved **Usagi**. If only..._

"We've both lost," she muttered bitterly, then turned on her heel and walked away.

* * *

Some instinct called him from his slumber, interrupting the few moments of sleep he had succumbed to after he dragged his drained body to bed. He rose, tossing sheets aside, and his eyes were unerringly drawn to the window and the softly lit night outside. 

Mamoru knew what he'd see when he looked outside. If the Princess drew him in his sleep, then Usagi drew him in his waking moments. And there she was, twin ponytails flashing like ribbons of gold as she looked up at his apartment. From this height he could not see her face, but he could imagine it much too clearly. Her eyes would look navy dark, her skin pallid and translucent. He didn't stop to ask himself how it was that he knew, to the exact shadow, how her face would look in the moonlight.

He let his forehead rest on the cool glass of the window and wistfully remembered a time when the only feelings he was regularly acquainted with were loneliness and emptiness. Clean emotions. Then he'd met Usagi and a floodgate had lifted. Without warning, his life was filled with messily intense passions. Anger, joy, frustration, attraction, fear...love. _Love?_ No, he must have already known love. After all, he'd been dreaming of the Princess since he was a young boy. And he loved her...so it followed that he must have felt love before he met Usagi.

_But...but I hadn't!_

Confusion swamped him, and he stared fixedly out the window. Hell, he'd been confused since the vengeful four had left his apartment that afternoon. After they had left, he'd run and rerun their conversation over and over, trying to find out why his answers to their demands had left him hollow. Left him feeling as though he'd failed a very important test. Rei had asked him what had caused him to deny Odango, and he hadn't even had to pause to tell her: he loved the Princess. He knew he did. But...but...god, had he ever _felt_ he did?

Had his heart ever clenched with fear at the thought that he'd lose her? Had his being rejoiced at the touch of her lips? Had he ever had frustration clench around him with an iron hand, demanding he give into laughter or rage, separately or at the same time? Had the Princess ever made him lose control as Usagi did?

His dreams always left him alone and unsatisfied, compelled to find what would ease the emptiness. Usagi always left him feeling too much, all at once...but never, ever empty. Was that love?

Good Lord, he didn't know! Why didn't he know what love felt like?

In the end, he may not know what it was he felt for Usagi, but it was more than he'd felt for the Princess...even if his brain knew what he was _supposed_ to feel for the Princess.

He had to know what it was he was feeling, had to analyze what exactly it was that Usagi made him feel before he could put it aside and focus on the Princess. If he could focus on the Princess after this.

Below him, Usagi swung around in a shallow arc and began to walk away. In the eerie half-light of moon and stars she seemed to fade into the surrounding gloom, and an urgency gripped him roughly by that part in his soul that seemed to call out to her. He had watched his Princess disappear into the murkiness of his dreams countless times, and had barely survived the experience. He could not bear to watch Usagi leave him, too.

That, he would never endure.

* * *

He reached her just as she paused under a streetlight. 

Usagi froze, one step in light and one in darkness. Fine tremors overtook her, sensing a presence nearby. But not in fear...no, never in fear of him. She turned back, watching him emerge from the night to stand before her, unapologetically sexy in black jeans and rumpled hair. Her breath caught, heart pumping double-time even as she told herself there was no hope.

"Funny meeting you here," she smiled when the silence had stretched too long. He said nothing.

"Yes, well...excuse me." She needed to leave. It wasn't fair to see him now, when the temptation to tie him to her, his feelings be damned, was so strong. She stepped out of the cocooning circle of light.

"Wait," he commanded, voice hoarse. "Wait, please."

She immediately stilled, even as her hands clenched against the instinct to flee. She felt his hand before he even touched her, and she braced for it. He gently took hold of her sleeve, drawing her back under their own personal spotlight. When he let go, she remembered to breathe.

"What is it like?"

She rubbed the spot where he'd touched her sleeve. She could swear the heat of his hand still lingered. "What is what like?"

"L..." he stumbled over the word, feeling like a fool. But he needed to know and only she could answer him. "Love," he finished gruffly. "What does it feel like."

It wasn't so much a question as a demand. Before she knew it, she was crumbling, the strain of knowledge and heartbreak tremendously heavy on her shoulders. "No, please don't do this to me now!" She whirled away.

"What does it feel like!" he repeated, desperate hands reaching for her and twisting her around to face him. "Tell me!"

"Let me go!"

"No."

She growled deep in her throat like a cornered animal and lashed out. Her backhand caught him square in the face and turned his head. He stood, a tall, pale statue limned in light, blood rushing to the surface of the blow to mark the skin of his cheek an angry red.

"Love?!" she screamed, half-hysterical. "How dare you ask me what love is like! Don't you know? Wasn't it you who told me you might _care_ for me, but you loved the Princess? Don't ask _me_ what love is!"

She stopped, ashamed, taken aback by her own fierceness, her own rage. The knuckles of her right hand throbbed; she stung with the humiliation she felt, that she could lose her control so completely. "I'm s..." But she wouldn't, couldn't apologize. "I have to go."

This time when she stepped away, she was sure he would let her go. Thus she was all the more surprised when he grabbed her shoulders and hauled her back.

"I'm asking you anyway," he told her calmly.

She fought against the surge of anger, but his unruffled manner only served to magnify her ire. _How can he be so cold?! Doesn't he care at all?! _ She wanted to shake him free of his mildness, prove she mattered at least enough to make him lose control, too.

"Why?" she demanded, shrugging out of his hold. "What is it? Princess troubles? Need some little love counseling? Sure, let's ask the stupid little teenager with the crush. Oh, no, wait...you need to _find_ the Princess before you--"

He flinched, and she should have rejoiced in it. But she couldn't.

"Don't, Usagi. I didn't come here to fight with you." His voice remained quiet, even as his eyes darkened.

"You won't be satisfied, you know, if you ever find her." Usagi fought to contain the bitterness, yet was unable to quell the trace of desperation in her voice. She looked away at some distant point. "What will you do when she's not the perfect princess you've imagined. What will you do when you find out she's human, and makes mistakes, and sometimes even purposely hurts the ones she..." her voice cracked, "loves."

"She wouldn't. And it wouldn't matter," he answered with perfect conviction.

"Wouldn't she?" Usagi whispered, turning searching eyes towards him. "And wouldn't it bother you, finding out she's not perfect, that she's not always a pretty little dream."

"I love her for who she is, not what she is."

Usagi snorted in patent disbelief. "Sure, whatever. They're the same to you. How else could you love someone you've met only in your dreams?"

Mamoru struggled with the anger and doubts she was stirring up. She'd turned him away from his point, and it was vital to his sanity that he return to it. "I've always known I've loved her," he began.

"Even if you've never known her," she insisted. "You are positive that she's going to be exactly as you expect a Princess to be."

"Yes."

Usagi didn't quite stifle in time the low sound of pain that escaped her throat. "And you've always known she loves you back."

"Yes."

Well, at least he was definitely half-right.

"So what," she asked quietly, "exactly do you need me here for?"

He ran a weary, confused hand through his hair, unable to meet her eyes. How could he tell her he loved the Princess in one breath, then admit he had no clue what love was in another? "You said you loved me."

Another broken sound from her, before she wrapped her arms around her in a futile move for comfort. It would be foolish to deny it. "Yes."

He finally found the courage to raise his gaze to hers. "And how does it feel?"

Perhaps for the first time she understood what he was asking, and why he wanted to know. To know the concept of love was one thing, but to experience it was a completely different matter. How safe was it for him to love an ideal he would never find? Never find in her, or anyone else.

Even if he never loved her, at least she knew what it was like to love. He'd never have that, it seemed. The insight filled her with sorrow.

"Mamoru-san," she whispered sadly, "if you have to ask, then you've never been in love. Not even with your Princess."

"That...that doesn't explain anything."

It was such a Mamoru-like think to say, so very logical, that she had to laugh, even if it was bittersweet. "What do you want, a list?"

He didn't answer her, but his gaze did not drop from hers. She thought perhaps that desperation swirled in the depths of his eyes, but could not be sure it wasn't a trick of the moonlight. But there was something . . . something in the tension in his shoulders, in the way that he strove to seem nonchalant when her answer was so obviously important to him, that undid her.

"Okay, I'll tell you," she breathed. Then she closed her eyes and titled her head back, tasting the depths of her emotions. "It's everything. It's never being empty, even if it hurts being too full. It's knowing there's no hope for you, no matter what, there's not a second chance. It's never forgetting a single detail about them. You carry them around with you, because they've become part of you. It brings out the very best, and the very worst in you. You're selfish and selfless because you'll give them anything but, dammit, you deserve everything in return. And every moment you have with them feels like the first, and the last, and it's so much I can't stand it!"

She was gasping now, but couldn't seem to stop. "It's hating an illusion because he's chosen it over you, but wishing the illusion were real so he could be happy. And you know that if you lost them," she sobbed, "if you lost them you'd follow them to hell to bring them back because without them...without them..."

"You'd be lost yourself," he finished softly, hands clenched into fists as he watched her battle back tears. "And sometimes you can't decide if you want to laugh or be angry, or hit something or kiss someone, or maybe do it all at once. And you're alive, for the first time in your life, and you're complete."

"Yes," she wept. "Yes, that's exactly right. So now you know, for future reference." For the last and final time, she attempted to leave him.

And he was poleaxed, finally finding a name for what he felt, what he'd struggled with, all along. He'd been a fool, thinking love was a rational thing. Why had he cared what his mind had demanded, when all along the cadence of his heart had been matching Usagi's, beat for beat? The weight that lifted off his shoulders was immense, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why he had had such a difficult time making a choice. There'd never been a choice. He was wrong in thinking he'd never felt love. He'd felt it since he'd met Usagi. If he'd only listened, truly listened to his heart, how many tears would have been avoided? How much joy had he missed in his dithering?

It seemed so easy now to let the Princess go.

She was half a dozen long strides away when his voice, surprised and thoughtful, reached her. "I finally understand. I see now why nothing has been..right...since I met you. Why I couldn't seem to find the right answers. I never used to feel much, you know, before I met you. That's why it's always so hard for me to understand what exactly it is that I'm feeling."

Her feet betrayed her and refused to go further.

"I never quite know what you'll make me feel next. I don't know anyone who has ever made me feel this way. To just...feel. Happiness, fear, rage, amusement...anything."

Everything before her was a wet, inky blur.

"That's why it was so easy for me to cling to her, I imagine. Something inside of me always told me that I loved her, whether I felt it or not. I've never thought to question what I knew, and I never knew to question what I felt. So I knew what love was, but not how it would feel. And now...now I do."

"How great for you," she exhaled, tilting her head back to stare at a watery moon. _And now that you know what love is like, you'll never even have the chance to find your Princess. I don't know how to be that for you_.

She was absorbed in the shifting rainbows her tears cast on the image of the moon, and the various flavors of poignant pain that flowed through her veins; she did not sense him come up behind her. When he stepped around her and blocked her vision of the moon, she did not have time to wipe the evidence off her cheeks.

That was quite all right. He did it for her, cupping her face gently in warm hands and drying her tears with his thumbs. She looked exactly as he knew she would, eyes dark navy and skin beautifully translucent. He opened himself to wonderfully new emotions, reveling in each as salty tears painted his fingertips.

"What I'm trying to say is that you were the one who made me feel love, Usag--Usako. Whether or not my brain continues to tell me I have to love the Princess...my heart seems to have ideas of its own. And I," he swallowed audibly, "I could, I have been able to, live without the Princess for a long time. But without you I'd just go back to feeling incomplete."

She could not understand. It made no sense. "But...but you said..."

Those salty fingertips tapped her lips closed. "I was wrong. I was a fool to not accept what I so obviously needed."

Usagi's hands came up to clasp tightly around his wrists, trying to convince herself this was real, this was actually happening.

"For future reference...I love you, Usako."

He drew a star-shaped locket from his pocket, winding it lovingly around her wrist. "A superhero told me to give this to the woman I loved. I think I had it right the first time."

Everything within her shifted, expanded, opened, and for the first time in weeks she felt she could take a deep breath. "Mamo-chan, the Princess, I--"

He shushed her once more. "She, wherever, whoever she is just...doesn't really matter anymore. For the first time, my mind and my heart seem to be telling me the same thing. She may have taken over my dreams, but you've taken everything else. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice."

She kissed his fingertip, letting the sweet sense of reality finally settled around her like a blanket. She would tell him soon enough the whereabouts of his Princess, but for now this was exactly what she wanted.

And then she kissed him under the moonlight to seal the promise.

* * *

EPILOGUE 

Quite a number of years later...

"And that, Small Lady, is how I single-handedly hooked up your mommy and daddy."

A four-year-old Chibi-Usa stared in crimson wide-eyed wonder at her newfound hero. "Really, Minako-chan? You did it all?"

Minako, in full Sailor Venus splendor, lay back on the luxuriant cushions in Small Lady's chambers and allowed herself to preen just a bit. "Yuppers, munchkin. Without me, those two moro-- er, those two silly people -- would still be arguing about failed tests and falling shoes. 'Twas I, great Senshi of Love, who figured it all out!"

"Wow! And that's how mommy and daddy got together."

"Yes, and then the aliens from planet Igor showed up and vaporized Minako-chan for being a grade A liar!" announced Rei, who'd passed by just in time to hear Minako-chan take all the credit. "And that, Chibi-Usa, is a compliment! Aunt Minako never got an A as a grade in anything else!"

"Hey! I did too hook 'em up! I'm the one who found out he was Tuxedo Mask and her soulmate, and that she was the Princess!"

"I'm the one who decided to take a little detour through his psyche, if you kindly recall."

Minako showed her appreciation for this reminder by sticking her hands behind her ears and waving her fingers furiously as she crossed her eyes at Rei.

This sent Chibi-Usa into a fit of giggles and many attempts to mimic Minako.

"No, no, munchkin. Like this." Minako demonstrated again towards a red-faced Rei. "Put a little more wiggle in the fingers."

Rei watched the two make faces at her for another three seconds, before she got fed up and tossed a pillow at Minako's face.

"You're just jealous because it was due to me that they got together!"

"Not! It was me!"

"Me!"

"ME!"

"Neither of you!" cried Makoto, taking a flying leap into what was quickly developing into a pillow war. Ami walked in right behind her, ducking renegade pillows. "Those two were already in love before you two dunces thought to do anything about it. It was just a matter of time."

Chibi-Usa cast one disappointed look at Minako and Rei. "Really, Mako-chan? Ami-chan?"

Ami ruffled Chibi-Usa's pink bangs. "Indeed. Those two just served to make the story longer. Readers get upset when the chapters are only a few pages long."

"Oh," murmured Chibi-Usa with a wisdom far beyond her years.

"In fact, I'd say your mommy and daddy would ha--"

Wild, childish giggling exploded from the hallway. Through the open doorway, the girls watched a madly laughing Neo-Queen Serenity bolt past, waving lilac-colored trousers in one hand and a tuxedo jacket in the other. Seconds later the King followed a few steps behind.

He was wearing only a white towel, clutched securely around his waist.

"SERE!! Come back here with my clothes! Usako!"

"Gonna have to work for them...honey-buns."

The Senshi watched, goggle-eyed, and continued to stare at the now-empty hallway until the Queen's laugh was cut off by a very lusty...moan. And the very distinct sound of clothing hitting the floor. Lots of clothing.

Then they bounded for the door, shutting it and turning red faces at a distinctly curious Chibi-Usa.

"Heh heh, your silly parents," croaked Minako.

"What're they doin'?"

"Uhhh, playing?" offered Ami.

"Jeez, right in the middle of the hallway! Don't they have a room for that kind of--er, those kinds of games?" complained Makoto. "Show offs."

"What kind of games, Mako-chan?" asked Chibi-Usa.

"Nothing! Nothing! So, wanna hear another story?" asked Rei, wracking her brains for a distraction.

Chibi-Usa was willing to be distracted. "'Kay. Where do babies come from?"

The Senshi couldn't get the door open fast enough.

* * *

THE END 


End file.
